








' p 
































































































• 

1 f 

11 5 TO 




/h 



This work compiled, edited, and financially supported by 

, A S' 

The Enlisted 

Personnel 

C&~ IrJ / 

\ 

“D” 


Three Hundred and Thirty-Second Regiment 


United States Infantry 


Committees on 

Publication 


Editor-in-Chief 

Historical Data 


Pvt. Walter C. Hart 

Cpl. Paul L. Pugh 



Sgt. C. E. Bell 


Executive 

Sgt. C. C. Daily 

Cpl. Max B. Norpell 

Pvt. Max B. Tickner 

Cartoons and Etchings 


Pvt. E. J. Nowak 

Cpl. G. Essen Olson 

Sgt. John L. Thomas 


Photographs 



Sgt. H. B. Hungerford 

Publication 


Sgt. John L. Thomas 

Sgt. Joseph P. Fleming 


Cpl. Earnest A. Murray 

Cpl. Harley G. Hill 


Copyright 1920 


©SJ.A571796 




JUL 27 1920 












% 


FOREWORD 


UR STORY begins on a rainy Friday After¬ 
noon. It was a beginning, an ominous 
beginning, of a long and interesting chain 
of movements whether good or ill, of the 
332d Regiment of United States Infantry. 



We shall trace those movements in the following 
pages, relating briefly their meaning and their import, 
together with their attendant consequences, con¬ 
sequences which helped to bring ruin and disaster 
to a quartet of decadent and barbaric nations of 
the Twentieth Century. 


The Relit or. 






Officer Personnel, March 1, 1919 


Capt. Birk S. Stathers, Commanding Officer, 

Weston, West Virginia 

First Lt. Karl E. Whinnery, Second in Command, 

Salem, Ohio 

(Commissioned Captain and appointed Regimental Personnel Officer, 

March 20, 1919) 

First Lt. E. H. Yetter, 

Middletown, Ohio 

(Second in command, on and after March 20, 1919) 

Lt. James R. McConnell, 

Marietta, Ohio 

Lt. Don H. Cone, 

Urbana, Ohio 

Lt. H. G. Alston, 

Shadeland Ave., Pittsburgh, Pa. 





tition combined with each man’s loyalty to his company resulted in 
victory after victory for “D.” 

On the drill field the company never dropped lower than third 
in “Close Order.” When representatives were to be chosen from the 
regiment always a Co. “D” man or a platoon was in the finals. On 
November 16, four platoons from the regiment were sent to Akron 
with the Camp Sherman Football Team among them being “D” 
Co.’s hirst Platoon. In the exhibition drills and field games held 
that day “D” Co. amassed the highest total score. The exhibitions 
demonstrated to the people of Akron the proficiency of their sons in 
adapting themselves to military life. It was not alone in drilling and 
in football that “D” won honors. The cleanliness of “D’s” barracks 
brought honors for the “clean house” of the whole division for three 
successive weeks. The kitchen often won commendation, thanks to 
the mess sergeant, and Lt. Beal, the Mess Officer. 

Lt. Whinnery was an able and conscientious director of athletics 
both for the company and regiment. By his untiring efforts every 
man worked in some healthful sport. With Lt. Edwards as coach of 
the line, Lt. Mayne coach of the backfield, and Lt. Whinnery direct¬ 
ing the training, the company produced a football team that won its 
games in a handy fashion. A record of only one defeat in seven games 
reflected honor upon all who had anything to do with football. Top 
Sergeant Bell had little or no trouble getting all the men to attend 
the games and to support the team heartily. The company spirit 
was excellent. The men w r ere most loyal rooters. Lt. Whinnery 
found time during his busy day to make the squad of the Camp 
Sherman Eleven. > 

November 11 had seen the induction of one hundred three men 
from Akron making the company above strength since its present 
total membership w r as 263. 

Passes were issued during the fall for over the week-end. 25% of 
the company roster went home on Saturday, 25% more on Sunday. 
During this period a black list was unknown, and, had there been 
such a list, there would have been no A. W. O. L.’s or other offenders 
for it. The credit for this admirable state of affairs goes to Captain 
Emerson whose policies of fair and generous consideration to all 
his inferiors, officers and men alike, imbued everyone with a spirit to 
so conduct himself as to bring honor to his company, credit to himself, 
and pleasure to Capt. Emerson. Competitive drills were held each 
week and Co. “D” never fell lower than third in the rating of the 
judges. 

On November 18, the regiment began its nomadic career by en¬ 
training for Camp Perry on Lake Erie where the Regiment was to 
fire “C” Course on the rifle range. Citizens of several cities accorded 
the trains a hearty welcome by ringing of bells and shrieking of engine 
whistles as the trains passed. A cordial reception was tendered by 


i 

the Toledoans. Co. “D,” on the second section, arrived at Camp 
Perry about 11 a. m. on the 19th and detrained in a light fall of cold 
rain. Things were rather disagreeable owing to the weather and 
there was some delay in setting up camp as the men were new to 
erecting squad tents and could not quickly secure the proper align¬ 
ments. In the inclement weather, camp was pitched and as soon as 
all tents were erected, platforms were brought from the camp mess 
halls, along with stoves, and sandboxes for bases. Fires were built 
to dispel the cold and dampness; the men remained closely inside for 
the ground was rapidly becoming a sea of mud. 

Their second day at Camp Perry was spent in preparing targets 
and posters, and in getting ready for the target work on this excellent 
range. Many details were made up. Those not on detail organized 
a rabbit hunting expedition; armed with sticks and clubs they formed 
a skirmish line to advance across the fields. Whenever “Brer rabbit” 
was routed out, everyone would yell and so fluster poor bunny that 
he knew not which way to run; bewildered, he fell an easy victim to 
the besetting army. On the return each man skinned his quarry, 
and placed it in the kitchen. The common pot was found to have 
fifty-four rabbits which the famous chef, Peter Palmer, made into a 
very palatable stew, giving to each man a most generous portion. 

The weather grew colder. Light snows prevailed. In spite of 
snow and cold much knowledge was gained by the daily shooting, 
the men becoming rapidly more proficient with their rifles. Many 
possibles were made, and, in a spirit of friendly rivalry, bets were 
made on individual scores; thus the average score became much higher. 
In spite of the adverse weather conditions the shooting records made 
were remarkable; this was in keeping with the reputation of the 
company. 

The conditions of the weather and the change from living in warm 
barracks to tents set up on wet ground, caused much sickness and 
when a suspected case of smallpox appeared every man in the camp 
had to be vaccinated. Vaccinations were made while there was a 
heavy snow on the ground and the temperature hovering around the 
zero mark. Miniature blizzards made it impossible to go out on the 
range. The men were inadequately clothed to resist this severe 
weather. At this time Cpl. Arthur C. Nelson contracted the disease 
which caused his death. 

Thanksgiving came. This was the first holiday the regiment had 
had. Fifty per cent of the men were allowed to go on pass to their 
homes. For those who could not go there was a turkey and stuffin’ 
dinner that still lingers pleasantly in the memory. Two days later 
25% of the men went to Toledo where they saw W. & J. defeat the 
All Star Sherman Eleven. 

The training rushed to a whirlwind close in a spell of good weather 
and on December 11, Camp was struck amid a roaring blizzard which 



WE DONT NEED 

mo Eire. cee. 
whizt: Only rjj 


Forty below 


HELP! 


CAMP PERtfy. 




HEY, JIM' IT.) YEQ 
TURN TO GET 
COAl_ AH' WATER 
[WHATCHA /TALLIN 
\ FOR ? J 


They mujt be 

FU3GERIN6 on 
/penoins TVie 
•Sumner in 
■/IBERIA J 


I WONDER IF 
THE NORTH-POLE 
1.5 AS BAO AS 

CAMP PERRY? / 

















































swept in off the lake. It was well. Snow by this time was drifted 
well up the sides of tents, coal was scarce and it required courage to 
venture out for it, milk and oatmeal became ice while in transit from 
the mess hall to one’s tent. 

Work proceeded in snow almost knee deep; ears, noses, hands and 
feet froze in the intense cold. Untold hardships were born in lower¬ 
ing and folding the frozen tents, in carrying tent floors to the big mess 
hall, in pulling pins trom the frozen ground of which they seemed a 
part, and crating them in boxes. At six p. m. the grounds had been 
policed as much as possible and the men loaded on to their train. 
Steam from the engine froze in the first connection to the coaches. 
At Toledo the officers’ coach was removed from the rear to the front 
of the train. Due to cold weather and the inability to heat the train, 
numerous long stops were made to thaw out. While running, hardly 
enough steam could be generated to maintain a regulation rate of 
speed for troop trains. 

Camp Sherman was finally reached December 12, at 4 p. m. 
Some who suffered from exposure were removed from the trains by 
hospital ambulances. It was a happy family that finally ensconced in 
the old Barracks with guns stacked and awaited the hot slum with an 
apparent deep sense of appreciation and thankfulness that the Camp 
Perry ordeal was a thing of history. 

Within a week of the return from Camp Perry the Regiment was 
in quarantine. With Christmas approaching, with hopes that fur¬ 
loughs home might be granted, this was unfortunate. For sometime 
the ban was being continually lifted, then placed again. Men apply¬ 
ing for leaves were alternately buoyant with hope and crushed with 
despair. On December 22, to the joy of all, the ban was lifted and 
some furloughs granted. 

Christmas Eve 25% of the men were given passes for the holidays; 
many had to wait until relieved from duty as the company was that 
day on guard. For those who did not go away the day was made 
pleasant by gifts from the Red Cross and the folks at home, and by 
shows at the theatres and dancing in the Community House. It was 
Uncle Sam’s first World War Christmas, it will long be remembered 
by Co. “D” men. 

Ill 

The New Year’s holiday found Co. “D” again on guard; however, 
short leaves were granted and many found their way home. On 
New Year’s Eve a notable event took place at the Community House 
when the marriage of Gen. Glenn’s daughter, Miss Edwina, was 
beautifully solemnized. 

During January, drilling was made almost prohibitive by a cover¬ 
ing of snow and ice everywhere on the ground. Better equipment was 
now issued, then long hikes became the leading form of exercise. 
When not hiking the men spent long hours listening to lectures; 


studying Infantry Drill Regulations, and practicing semaphore and 
wigwag, while the nomenclature of the rifle and its parts, the manual 
of arms, and the practice in the use of the gas-mask—all came in for 
their share of time and attention. 

The last part of January saw the first stages of the disruption of 
the company through transfers. The policy of the War Department 
aimed to not have a company enter battle with a large number of 
men from the same immediate locality. In February the Machine 
Gun Battalion took its pick of the Company, choosing for the most 
part the large robust men. 

The old first platoon was no more, the second was riddled to 
pieces, while the third also was severely dealt with. It seemed that 
every unit in Camp that needed men derived joy in coming to “D” 
Co., and not leaving till they could go with men of their choice. 
Throughout February transfers continued to deplete the company 
strength. Fifteen men went to Camp Pike and fifty to Camp 
Forrest, Ga. 

On March 8th, equipment “A” was first issued; then came the 
initiation into the mysteries of rolling packs. From this time on, life 
at Sherman was a continual series of inspection, one overseas inspec¬ 
tion coming after another. 

By the middle of March, 1917, the company strength was only 
eighty-seven men, almost all non-commissioned officers. To the men 
this action was exceedingly discouraging as they were fraternally 
attached to one another by the strongest ties of friendship. 

On April 20, the company received the final 15% of the first draft 
and a period of intensive training followed. It is to be doubted 
whether any other group of men ever received a more gruelling, in¬ 
tensive training than did these men and those who came in a few 
days later. “First call’’ was at 5:30 and there was no let up in the 
program till late in the evening. “Close Order Drill” and “Open 
Order Drill,” the “Manual of Arms,” “School of the Soldier,” Sema¬ 
phore and Wigwag with British, French and Italian “Open Order” 
methods, were taught under officers from the armies of those countries, 
hence, instruction came direct from the front lines of Europe. On 
April 3, all, soldiers in the camp, about 40,000 in all, turned out to 
pass in review before Gen. Glenn upon his return from France. A 
iarge crowd viewed the parade on this perfect afternoon. 

Practice manoeuvers involving a twelve mile march began on the 
following day, April 4. The regiment broke camp at 7:00 a. m. and 
prepared to assault the strong point of the enemy located on a small 
hill. An assault was directed at the crest of the hill. At the conclu¬ 
sion, Colonel Wallace, who had observed the attack, in lecturing the 
officers and sergeants, pronounced the manoeuver a failure and ex¬ 
plained that in theory the men were all dead, having been led over the 
wrong road and one covered with imaginary gun fire. In the brief 


interval before the receipt of the next increment of men, several 
night hikes were made in preparation for overseas work. “No talk¬ 
ing; no smoking,” was the order. 

Lectures together with divers subjects, were part of a hetero¬ 
geneous menu served indiscriminately in the rookies’ daily mental 
and physical diet. Feet were sore, muscles ached and brains reeled 
during this program whose fourth commandment was, “Seven days 
shalt thou labour and prepare for war and for thy comfort there shall 
be no rest from morn till night.” 

Col. McNab lectured in the Big Liberty Theatre on the art of 
marksmanship. Clad in blue overalls the men packed the great 
auditorium each morning by 7:30. In his first instructions Col. McNab 
shouted out before the several thousand rookies present, “Lots of you 
fellows will be ‘Over There’ on the firing line in six weeks.” Imbued 
by a desire to learn all they could, the men went zealously about 
studying the aiming and sighting bar, and practicing the proverbial 
trigger squeeze. 

Almost before the men knew how to find their places in ranks the 
Regiment moved to Mt. Logan Range to live in “pup” tents while 
firing Course “C.” This movement was on April 27, with full packs. 
Many of the rookies recently inoculated fell by the way unable to 
reach the range unaided. The weather alternated warm and cold, 
the days being for the most part warm, the nights frosty. The ground 
was damp, and the “new” men, unused to any phase of army life, 
suffered during the long hours of the night as they lay on the ground. 

Each company in the regiment had provisional companies made 
up of the new men. The latter were tutored by the old men in the 
use of the rifle, in which they soon evinced great aptitude. While at 
the range the men were not, allowed passes. Their thoughts centered 
on their scores, consequently, much good shooting was done. The 
recruits were kept busy every minute of the day from morning till 
night; while not in their places on the firing line, they were being 
drilled in the rear by the non-coms. After ten days the regiment 
returned to Camp Sherman entering at once into intensive training 
there. The day’s work began at 5:30 a. m. and ended at 7:30 or 8:00 
p. m., usually with a lecture. To the old men who came to Camp 
with the first contingents, and who were now doing this training work 
with rookies, and for the “steenth” time, the days were irksome and 
monotonous; to put spirit in the work under those conditions was 
trying indeed. 

Mother’s Day, May 12, brought both joy and grief. On that day 
the camp was filled with mothers and relatives of soldiers who had 
journeyd from near and far to see their loved ones about to depart 
for overseas service. The intensive training schedule, a consequence 
of the intended immediate departure for overseas, along with the 
probable military crisis on the European battle front, necessitated 


training without a break. Many mothers returned to their homes, 
their hearts saddened that they were unable to see their sons at all, 
or were, at least, not able to spend but a very little time in final 
companionship. “Carry On” was the order of the day. It became 
more and more apparent as the days passed that soon the regiment 
would be starting for “Over There.” 

Capt. H. B. Emerson had answered a question sent around from 
regimental headquarters asking for those who had farm experience. 
Some of his enemies took this occasion to remove him. To be removed 
was a hard blow to Capt. Emerson. His loss was irreparable to Co. 
“D,” and his departure brought a feeling of deep and sincere regret 
to all officers and men. 

Rumors of a speedy departure swooped down. All aliens were 
transferred to the Depot Brigade, all men were restricted to the 
Camp area at 3:00 p. m. on May 20, and no member of a line com¬ 
pany was permitted to leave the Camp on any excuse. 

IV 

At 8:45 a. m. on May 25, the company entrained, and started for 
the seaboard via the B. & O. Railroad. Upon reaching Parkersburg, 
West Virginia, an enthusiastic greeting welcomed the trains, while 
the American Red Cross served palatable and appetizing food and 
drinks. This heartfelt greeting of welcome and farewell, at once, was 
the beginning of a long series of its kind which were to add a spirit 
of patriotic fervor and fan into a breeze the fires of patriotism which 
often are dormant in the heart of a disciplined soldier. 

When again at Grafton, W. Va., the same hearty expressions of 
regard were demonstrated as at Parkersburg; when every village and 
hamlet along the route proved its loyalty by various patriotic manifes¬ 
tations; and, finally, when Philadelphia, that proud old city of true 
Americans, displayed its real feeling by shrieking whistles, clanging 
bells, and exultant hurrahs—well, every man felt a strange new 
awakening as though his very soul, accustomed to looking down into 
the black caverns of the cold earth, had suddenly been turned face 
upward to the sunlight and there beheld a new and hitherto unseen 
divinity, the unconquerable spirit of one hundred millions of people. 
It is by no means an easy task to journey four thousand miles from 
home to fight a foreign foe on a foreign soil; but to fight, to die if 
necessary, for such people, such homes, and a land that believes in 
one, that is back of one till the last glowing ember fades into darkness, 
ah! that is not hard; that is easy—for a man. 

The route was through the mineral rich hills of West Virginia, 
to the Apalachian foothills at Cumberland, Maryland; over the 
mountains to the Potomac, and to Washington, D. C., to Philadelphia, 
via Baltimore; thence to New'York City,and finally, to Camp Merritt, 


2 


where Co. “D” arrived at 9:00 p. m., Sunday, May 26. The company 
detrained at Dumont Station and marched to camp. 

At the beginning of the trip, every man had been instructed in 
the military necessity of keeping absolute silence as to his identity, 
his point of entrainment and his destination. During the short 
march thru Dumont to Camp Merritt many questions were asked, 
a typical one being, “Where are you boys from?” None of these 
questions have as yet been answered, thus attesting to the splendid 
spirit of obedience on the part of the men. Co. “D’s” officers mag¬ 
nanimously praised this spirit. 

The stay of the 332nd Regiment at Merritt was longer than was 
customary for units bound for overseas. Short hikes were taken each 
morning through the beautiful region surrounding the camp, while 
the rest of the day, sometimes part of the night, was devoted to the 
ever incorrect clothing check. One of Co. “D’s” hikes, an unusually 
long one, took it to the Hudson River and the beautiful Palisades. 
Passes for twenty-four hours to New York City were granted a large 
number of the men, many of whom made their first visit to New York 
at this time. 

While in a maze of inspections, clothing checks, issues, and ex¬ 
changes, word came that the regiment would presently embark for 
“over there.” Accordingly farewells were written home, some were 
said by those men fortunate enough to have relatives visiting them, 
camp was broken, and Co. “D” entrained for Hoboken at 11:00 a. m., 
June 6. Boarding a ferry at Hoboken, Co. “D” went down the Hud¬ 
son to the Cunard Line docks and to the immense pleasure of all 
walked up the gang plank to board the great Cunard Liner, H. M. S. 
Aquitania. ”D” Co. was assigned to quarters in steerage decks, 
F. & G. and comfort was not assured, nevertheless, each man looked 
forward with a great deal of anticipated joy to the trip over on this 
renowned vessel. The speed of the ship, it occurred to those who 
thought of it, practically assured safety. On the port side of the 
Aquitania lay the Carpathia, appearing almost diminutive alongside 
the Aquitania. It was the Carpathia which first reached the spot 
of the Titanic disaster and aided in the first rescue work. This was 
the last appearance of the Carpathia in New York Harbor; she was 
sunk on her return voyage after reaching a European port. 

Tugs were fastened to the Aquitania on the morning of June 8, and 
at 8:15 a. m. the great vessel began to move gently away from dock 
out into the Hudson River. The 332nd Regiment of U. S. Infantry 
was on its way “over there.” 


V 

Rules of military stringency and necessity were peremptorily 
issued on that morning. All port holes were ordered closed; all men 
were ordered below decks. The Aquitania presented a harmless ap¬ 


pearance as she made her way down the Hudson, out into New York 
Harbor, and along the shores of Long Island. 

Once without the range of vision of possible German spies, officers 
and men crowded out onto the decks. The eyes of ten thousand men 
looked anxiously back to a low fringe of smoke and mist on the fast 
falling horizon, all that could be seen of the land that meant more than 
life itself to everyone on board. Yet what man would have turned 
back if he could? What man was there who was not proud to be 
there? 

An aeroplane circled over head; another one much higher, searched 
the ocean for possible danger. Three destroyers nosed sharply 
through the water, searching and plunging, zigzagging this way and 
that. 

The smoke and mist of the mainland could no longer be seen; the 
shores of Long Island fell gradually away to port stern, and in a short 
time the Aquitania was speeding her way thru the treacherous waters 
of the blue Atlantic. 

An air of serious contentment settled over the decks as the vessel 
reached the high sea. 

Owing to the size of the ship there was little or no apprehension 
that the 332nd would share the fate meted out to hundreds of vessels 
each month by the Imperial German Government. Danger from 
enemy submarines was the most remote thought. That evening an 
eclipse of the sun was plainly visible. The day had been a perfect 
one. In late twilight every man was ordered below and every port 
hole ordered closed for the night. 

Many vague and startling rumors gained more or less credence 
throughout the trip, ranging anywhere from reports of submarines 
lying in our path, to a great naval battle in the North Sea. Few, if 
any, of these reports could be verified. Excepting two or three occa¬ 
sions when suspicious looking craft appeared ahead and the decks were 
set for action, there was no excitement. The great boat followed a 
very zigzag course, listing magnificently to port or starboard in 
response to the pilot’s efforts to make right angles in his wild “zig¬ 
zagging.” 

On the evening of June 14 a setting sun broke through the western 
clouds and a shaft of golden sunlight exposed to view the southeast 
coast of Ireland. That night the Irish Sea was crossed and in the 
morning the Aquitania rested on a choppy estuary covered with white 
winged fishing boats, at the mouth of the Mersey River. Liverpool 
lay in front. Unable to enter the river mouth at ebb tide, the Aqui¬ 
tania anchored outside, and at noon, on the crest of a high tide, bore 
its burden of khaki up the river and at 2:00 p. m., June 15, the 332nd 
set foot on European soil. 

A brief march to the Mersey R. R. Station followed. The business 
streets of Liverpool were hemmed by zealous folk who cheered and 



applauded heartily as the movement went on. Without delay Co. 
“D” boarded third class coaches and the trip continued; where, none 
knew. However, before many miles were traversed, every man 
revelled in the delightful scenery of rural England. 

VI 

If rural England is more charming anywhere than in that region 
traversed by the Great Northern Railway, the personnel of Co. “D” 
would like to see it. 

Their train passed small villages of bright, red brick houses with 
tile roofs, immaculate in their cleanliness, artistic in their arrange¬ 
ment, and picturesque amid green fields. The rural homes are never 
without flower gardens whose multitudinous varieties never lack 
harmony of color. The order and arrangement of the cultivated 
fields seem to be the product of a universal mind, while the perfectly 
wrought and endless stone fences keep alive the momory of hands 
that served ages ago. 

The railway right-of-way, the vicinity of the stations, the city 
streets, all silently yet forcefully spoke of cleanliness. England is 
thoroughly policed and this spirit of cleanliness must be noticed by 
every American. Over level stretches of green fields; down glades, 
along excellent macadam roads; across bridges built over shady 
gullies; around sharp curves, surrounded by precipitous hills, carefully 
and intensively cultivated, the small plots set apart by well built 
stone walls so that the whole looked like a giant checker board—such 
was the magnificient panorama of country and hamlet. Co. “D’s” 
train sped on into the twilight; it was daylight yet when sleeping 
towns were passed — Manchester, Derby, Lichfield, Birmingham, 
Warwick, Oxford, Reading, Basingstoke, and Salisbury—the train 
sped on. As darkness approached with midnight, low, glimmering, 
dismal lights were lit; each compartment bore printed orders to ex¬ 
tinguish them in case of an air raid. At 2:00 a. m., June 16, the 
company detrained in a huge terminal shed at Southampton into 
whose darkened and dismal streets we presently emerged to march 
silently amid the oppressive blackness of the night to a “Rest Camp.” 

If European “Rest Camps” are all similar to those Co. “D” 
visited, the man who christened them is to be congratulated as a most 
worthy possessor of a keen sense of humor. At 4:00 a. m. the men 
were assigned to squad tents, twenty-five men to a tent capable of 
holding eight. Piled into these with full equipment, the men lay in a 
heap, their bodies twisted and contorted as they fell into a heavy 
sleep. Rain fell; the tents leaked; the air was cold. The new members 
of the A. E. F. were being initiated into the physical discomforts of 
war. Many men who chose to lie down on the wet ground became 
soaked and chilled. In the early forenoon every man was roused and 
in a slow, cold rain, physical and equipment inspections were held; 


afterwards, orders came to pack up, and soon the company was once 
more on its way through the streets of Southampton to board a 
channel transport for France. With its broad avenues, copious shade, 
magnificent residences and homelike atmosphere, Southampton looked 
good to the American soldier. At 5:00 p. m., June 16, Company “D” 
boarded the channel transport “Archangel” which one hour later 
loosed its moorings. 

A cloudless evening, a perfect blue sky, and a resplendent sunset 
lent charm to the romantic scenery on both mainland and the Isle 
of Wight as the Archangel steamed toward the English Channel. 
Charming and picturesque cities and towns, nestling in the shadow of 
green hills covered with luxurious vegetation, everywhere lined the 
banks. Numerous old English castles crowned the hilltops, as if to 
proclaim the region a strictly English heritage. 

The Archangel found its way in a narrow channel between fields 
of floating and hidden mines. Mines! Mines! beneath and above 
water, mines everywhere! Yet the scenic beauties of the surrounding 
region made mines and war little thought of. As the long twilight 
slowly mellowed into darkness, material results of the German sub¬ 
marine warfare became visible. Torpedo boats, cruisers, and merchant 
ships lay crippled, their hulks rent and torn amidship; or, pierced 
either forward or aft, they almost stood with either prow or stern 
nosed into the sands below as though forbidden at the last moment 
to make the final plunge, from which few ships return. 

Interrupting the reveries of every man, orders came to go below 
decks, no smoking and port holes closed. The quarters on the Arch¬ 
angel did not accomodate; the Archangel wasn’t built that way, nor 
with that purpose in view. Further, little cared any man about ac¬ 
commodations that night if the ship bore its cargo of human freight 
over the English Channel. 


VII 

The next morning, June 17, at six o'clock, the xA.rchangel moored 
alongside a pier in a different city, with a different tongue. But these 
people were not strangers. Common desires, common hopes, during 
a century of time, and finally, a common cause in this world struggle, 
gave every member of Co. “D” a sense, a feeling, of being at home. 
The company debarked, formed its ranks and marched through the 
dingy streets of the wharf section of Le Havre. 

The streets were peopled chiefly with old men, old women, and 
children. Fruit venders brought poor oranges and figs and dates, 
offering them at exorbitant prices to the men when “Fall Out” was 
given. The shops were poor and barren; they were not American 
shops. French flags, with some of all allied nations, hung from the 
window ledges of old, black, stone buildings. A cheer greeted a 
French “Barbara Frietchie” as she unfurled a large American flag, 


before the ranks of Co. “D.” American flags were conspicuous 
throughout the city. 

The morning was intensely hot. The march continued thru the 
city, then turning to the right, the course pursued a winding climb 
up a hill, whose summit, after a laborious and fatiguing ascent, was 
reached at 10:00 a. m. Soon Co. “D” was within the barricading 
fence of another “Rest Camp,” high on the summit of this hill. 

Careful and quick observation showed the Le Havre camp to be 
carefully fenced, and heavily guarded; no man was permitted to 
leave the enclosure, the guards being under the severest orders that 
military necessity might impose. Squad tents, carefully and artfully 
camouflaged, made the camp. There was no shade; no bath houses 
or mess halls were to be seen. An overworked Y. M. C. A. and an 
undersupplied canteen, both inadequately housed and operating very 
intermittently, were the only buildings to grace the grounds. A huge 
Zeppelin crossed the sky and thoughts turned to air raids. There was 
much evidence to indicate raids were frequent, for in every conspicuous 
place notices were posted advising men to learn raid signals at once 
and to acquaint themselves with location of dugouts and other places 
of refuge; anti-aircraft guns were numerous. 

After a short delay and this cursory observation assignments were 
made to the little squad tents, too many men being necessarily as¬ 
signed to each tent. Tents were crowded and uncomfortable, but the 
prospect of an early departure helped everyone to make the best of it. 

On that same afternoon many men made use of the only luxury 
possessed by the camp—the hot vapor bath. A small, intensely 
heated rocm was filled to capacity with men. In a short time copious 
perspiration broke out over the body which, when soaped and rubbed, 
became coated with lather. When one felt clean and at the same 
time sufficiently nauseated, he begged to be let out, whereupon he 
used a cold, very cold shower that was very good if there happened 
to be water, otherwise, which wars the more usual, one used his towel 
to rinse and dry in one operation. 

Very tired and hardened to discomfort, the men sprawled out over 
the circular board bases of the tents, and indiscriminately sprawled 
over each other. So the first night passed. 

On the following morning rumor was current that camp would be 
broken that day. The morning engaged the men in shaving, washing, 
policing the grounds, and in general, cleaning up. By afternoon packs 
were made, everyone on his toes and the march began from “Rest 
Camp No. 2.” Rain began to fall steadily from leaden skies. Down 
the hill through the streets of Le Havre the march continued. The 
332d Infantry was in the highest spirits; as they sauntered down the 
hill, some whistled, some sang, some yelled, others merely listened 
and looked on ; occasionally, one cast a warm glance at a pretty made¬ 
moiselle with a pair of dark brown eyes, then cautiously exclaiming in 


good American-French, “Bon soir, mam’selle.” If the pretty lady 
replied, taking due cognizance of the daring young soldier, all was 
well; if she did not reply, hoots and jeers rained upon his head from 
those in the nearest ranks and he was likely to keep silence for some 
time. “Over There,” “Hail, hail,” and “There’s a Long, Long 
Trail,” were some of the songs, sometimes in unison, that Le Havre 
heard that rainy evening of June 18. “Do we want to go home?” 
someone shouted. “No,” cried a union of voices in answer. And 
then they sang, “Over There.” 


VIII. 

Darkness and rain were falling fast as Co. “D’s” column entered 
the freight yards of Le Havre, and formed up against a long line of 
box cars. On each car was a little sign in French: 

8 Chevaux (8 horses) 

40 Hommes (40 men) 

Not forty, but thirty-five men were placed in each car, which, with 
the full equipment each man carried, made the conditions very crowded. 
Lights were forbidden, and in the pitch darkness there was great 
confusion. Rations consisting of corned beef, canned tomatoes, beans, 
and hard tack, sufficient for three days’ travel, w r ere loaded into each 
car. 

There was insufficient room for every man to lie down. Some 
tried to lie, others tried to sit, and with this arrangement others 
could neither lie nor sit. European box-cars are about one- 
half as capacious as American box cars. The torso of one man lay 
across the knees of another, one man’s hobs kept close liason with 
another man’s nose, while from the deep depths of somewhere the 
humble possessor of the unoffending nose muttered deep curses and 
pronounced terrible inprecations on the head of the innocent possessor 
of the offending hobs. 

The train started as though forty engines had vented their wrath 
and might at the head of this long line box cars, then all was quiet. 
Another jerk; somebody’s equipment crashed murderously down from 
its elevation and alighted on one fellow’s head. We could not, if we 
would, neither would we if we could, recall just what this fellow said. 
But we think it was something about going home. Another jerk; 
and Co. “D” was off—for somewhere. 

The roof leaked and water poured through on this jumbled and 
distorted mass of humanity. The box car had three flat wheels that 
never bumped in unison; there was no extra charge for the up and 
down motion. The only penalty was a tired body, a pair of aching 
legs, a couple of sore hips, and a few unpleasant thoughts. But 
France, after standing out against the Hun for four years, could pro¬ 
vide no better; she was doing her best. This last fact made the hard¬ 
ships easier. 



















































































































































































































The following morning a partially cloudy, but beautiful forenoon, 
with interrupted sunlight, disclosed the beautiful fields of Normandy, 
luxuriant with waving grain. At 10:30 a. m. the Eiffel Tower appeared 
silhouetted in the haze of the distance, telling that Paris was near, and 
presently the train entered the eastern section of the city, Noissy le 
Sue, only to emerge after a half-hour without making a stop within 
its limits. Soon again there was an ever-varying panorama of beauti¬ 
ful French country side, dotted with pretty villages of gabled houses 
covered with red tile roofs set in waving fields of grain, and rolling 
meadows generously sprinkled with bright-red poppies. All day, 
trains passed and were passed going to and coming from the front, 
seme bearing French soldiers, others English; one loaded with light 
cr heavy artillery; another with German prisoners; one carried straw 
and grain and still another lumber and piling for front linetrenches. 

As night descended none knew the destination or where the jour- 
rey would end; no one knew how near or how far he was from the 
battle lines of the Western Front; so, cold and damp, all prepared to 
sperd the night as best they could. 

Night sped on; the train crawled. A few short jerks brought some 
unkind remark from somewhere in that tangled bunch of humanity. 
The train stopped. “Everybody out, everybody out,” cried a voice, 
emphasizing the last “everybody.” After a half hour of confusion 
and haste everybody was outside in formation, arms stacked, ready 
and anxious for any orders; 2:30 a. m. is not the warmest hour of the 
day in France. 

With arms stacked and equipment on their backs, the men waited, 
one hour, two hours, — “Fall in,” came the order, and before dawn 
had come a long column crossed the Marne and moved snake-like 
out over the winding roads of the upper Marne region, leaving Foulain 
and the railroad in the valley. 

Marching with full equipment for hours, up and down hill, is as 
pleasant as having one’s teeth pulled, but it is not nearly so pleasant 
as lhat, if the head of the column, not sure of his route, changes his 
mind and retraces his steps after an hour’s aimless wandering. Such 
a system of exercise does not improve one’s disposition, either. The 
country was rugged, the roads winding, and dispositions in utter ruin. 

At 9:00 a. m. the vanguard of Co. “D” came to Mandres, a quaint 
rural village, of simple country folk where the cows live in close 
proximity to the family, and the pigs are on speaking terms with 
the children. Mandres is in the High Department of the Marne. 

Billets were assigned in lofts above stables or in attics above 
houses, both approached by rickety stairs or ladders; but lofts and 
attics are the same, since stables and houses are one. In these or¬ 
dinary French peasant homes the door opened from the kitchen into 
the cow stable, and from the parlor into the manure pile. These com¬ 
bined houses and stables, built of stone, present an appearance of great 


age; windows were small, consisting usually of a little opening with an 
iron grating set in great stone ledges. In France there is a tax on 
windows and the middle and lower classes economize by having them 
fewer and smaller. Tired and much in need of rest, the members of 
Co. “D” spent the night on the hard boards of these barren and cheer¬ 
less lofts. 

The French peasants bestirred themselves early the next morning; 
the cows were fed and milked; the horses groomed and curried, and 
soon cows and horses were driven out to the inviting fields—the 
former to browse, watched by peasant children; the latter to be worked 
by the old men among the peasants. 

The young men and the middle-aged stood in that line just over 
the hilltops where many had fallen and where many more would 
make the great sacrifice in just a few short days. 

Only a few American soldiers awaked to this scene. Up in the 
lofts and attics, in devious shapes and positions, they slept on till 
the late forenoon. 

The first day in Mandres was spent in washing and shaving, 
cleaning and policing. The streets were littered with filth, and in 
general the village was very unsanitary. Policing had to be done for 
both villagers and cows. Manure piles often gracing the street in 
front of a parlor door were to be razed and removed. In this work 
Co. “D” had much incentive to be exceedingly diligent and its for¬ 
mer reputation at Camp Sherman was now upheld at Mandres. 
By nightfall squads had been arranged and bunking space allotted 
to each man. The officers slept comfortably in the old-fashioned 
Louis XVI style of French bed found in nearly every peasant home. 

Drilling began in dead earnest on the following day, June 22, the 
work being done on the Macadam pike just west of the village. The 
schedule which started very early consisted of “School of the Soldier,” 
“Close Order,” “Open Order,” “Manual of Arms,” “Aiming and 
Sighting,” “Range Finding” and “Bayonet Drill.” Along this road 
each day came the little old man who broke stone for repairing the 
French roads. His uplifted cap was his usual greeting to every 
American soldier, by whom he was greatly beloved. The first day’s 
drill was a stiff schedule and each day thereafter, as long as the 332d 
remained at Mandres, a heavy day’s work from early till late was 
carried out. The days were hot and the nights cold. 

Sunday, June 23, brought General Pershing and Premier Clemen- 
ceau, the Tiger of France, for an official review of the 332d. Both 
made speeches to the officers and French townfolk who had come out 
to see the review. Gen. Pershing spoke glowingly of the general 
military appearance and soldierly bearing of the 332d Regiment. 
Clemenceau’s speech found great favor with the French people; 
it met with enthusiastic applause. 



1. High castle, cn route, Italy. 2. “Little old man,” in Mandres. 3. Scene en route. 4. Goodbye, France. 5. Shrine near 

Mandres. 6. “The Public Square,” Mandres. 












Another review by the Chief of Staff of the Belgian Army was held 
on June 26. The new method of dressing which had been practiced 
just a few times previously, was shown and elicited much praise 
from him for the second platoon under Lt. McConnell. That night 
at 9:00 p. m., the first mail came and although many were in their 
bunks the billets were soon emptied, each awaiting breathlessly the 
letter from “her.” On this same day well founded reports of going 
to Italy gained great credence, the first apparently authentic reports 
of this kind. 

On July 2, the regiment ceased work on the road west of Mandres, 
and began to drill on the stone covered top of the hill overlooking 
the village. The ascent always made an arduous task, and afterwards, 
without resting, a strenuous gruelling began in musketry and all 
phases of open order battle practice, the work lasting from early 
morning till 5:30 p. m. Semaphore and wigwag practice followed for 
an evening period from 7:30 to 8:00. Long wearisome days brought 
constant work with little or no recreation. Departure from Mandres 
was forbidden. 

An order issued on June 30, forbade any man to leave the areas 
because transfers were soon to be made to the 331st Regiment prior to 
the departure of the 332nd for Italy. It was not till the night of July 
3, however, that the men were aroused from their sleep and transferred. 
This event could be said to be a regrettable one on grounds of senti¬ 
ment for many men transferred were members of the 332nd Infantry 
when the organization was created. They were attached to the 332nd 
by ties of closely cemented freindship for the men and loyalty to their 
various companies; hence, their departure caused no little regret 
in the ranks of those who stayed behind. 

On July 4, replacements from the 331st Infantry began to arrive 
to take the place of those men sent out. From the ranks of the 331st 
came picked men who soon demonstrated their ability as soldiers 
and many wore corporal’s stripes in the Regiment in a very short 
time. 

Drill on the hilltop now started in dead earnest; trench dig¬ 
ging, bombing, gas training, the French system of attack, were added 
to the already heavy schedule, the training being done under an 
intensely hot sun. The regiment rapidly prepared to lay claim to 
being the best trained organization in the A. E. F. During this 
intensive drill no canteens were worn by Co. “D” men, except on 
the all day hikes when one canteen full of w r ater was allowed each man 
for the whole day. As a whole the men stood up well under these 
rigorous tests. 

During the entire period of training at Mandres, little reliable 
news came from the outside world. As the events in the theatre of 
war during this period of stay at Mandres, had both a direct and an 


indirect bearing on the regiment’s future, we shall pause to outline 
them in brief. 

By June 14, the big German offensive had been checked and 
presently brought to a dead halt, and in the ensuing days the war 
torch was carried to fire the battle lines on the Italian Front. From 
June 15 till the close of that month, terrific offensives were launched 
over the Piave River till the safety of Italy and the entire world was 
menaced. By June 20, the flood of Austrian victory had reached its 
high water mark and by the 24th, with her armies hurled back in 
great disorder, Austria admitted an Italian triumph. Patiently the 
332nd awaited the order to go to the help of our Italian allies. But one 
more scene must be enacted on the western front before the move¬ 
ment. 

July 17 saw the allied line bend a little south of the Marne. Rheims 
was in hourly danger of capture. Semi-officially the 332nd would not 
go to Italy till the pressure on the Marne salient lessened and the 
power of the foe in that region was broken. Technically, the 332d 
became a reserve unit till the last card was played in the impending 
struggle. 

From Fontenoy to Chateau Thierry, an allied assault was made 
on July 18, resulting in initial success for French and American arms 
after some of the most deadly and decisive fighting of the war. On 
July 20, after great numbers of the enemy were captured, the last 
of the foe fled over the Marne. On the following day Foch took 
Chateau Thierry; the central wedge of the oncoming Teutonic 
army was annihilated; Paris and the world were now, at least tempo¬ 
rarily, freed from the menacing hordes of Prussia. 

Now no longer a strategic reserve, the 332nd prepared to migrate 
to Italy after almost one month of expectant waiting. July 23 brought 
the first intimation of departure; drill was not resumed on the 24th, 
and this day and the one following were devoted to making prepara¬ 
tions for a long and tedious journey. 

Learning of the impending movement brought an air of bitter 
disappointment over the village of Mandres. The French villagers 
had learned to admire and like the Yanks in the five weeks they had 
been there. There was scarcely a child in the village who did not 
regard the Americans with a sense of profound hero-worship. Each 
soldier had his favorite in Mandres, or (not always among the children) 
in Essey, Donnes Marie, Langres, Biesles, Sarcey, Louvieres, Nogent 
or Foulain, small towns and hamlets doting the soft, blue French 
landscape in the region around Mandres. 

Early in the afternoon of July 26, equipment was slung, adieus 
were said to the French populace, many of whom could not refrain 
from weeping; the order was given, the columns moved forward, and 
presently a bend in the road forever shut Mandres from sight. 


The march led to the railway station at Foulain; where mess was 
served in a field near the railroad yards in which the box cars stood 
awaiting our departure. By the time darkness fell on the night of 
July 26, every man was crumpled somewhere on the floor of the box 
cars allotted to Companies C and D. A sudden forward jerk, a quick 
stop; then another jerk somewhat harder than the first; the train 
of box cars with its human freight began to move and the 332d 
commenced another lap in its nomadic career. 

IX 

Companies “C” and “D" reached and passed the Reyssouse 
River at Bourg very early the following morning, July 27. The 
early morning hours were chill and damp. From Bourg the route 
led to Amberieu, where after a half-hour stop, the train backed up 
to enter the Alpine pass used by ancient conquerors, and whose other 
extremity looked down upon the plains of northern Italy. 

The memory of this afternoon shall forever remain a cherished 
recollection in the war annals of every man lucky enough to be there. 
Above were the Alps, 

The palaces of nature, whose vast walls, 

Have pinnacled in clouds their snowy scalps, 

And thron’d eternity in icy halls 
Of cold sublimity, where forms and falls 
The avalanche—the thunderbolt of snow! 

All that expands the spirit, yet appalls, 

Gather around these summits, as to show 
How earth may pierce to Heaven, yet leave 
vain man below. 

—Byron: “Childe Harold.” 

Aix-les Bains, that most renowned watering place of Europe, 
nestling amid Alpine crags on the edge of the beautiful Lake Bourget, 
was reached at 5:00 p. m. A gorgeous sunlight flooded the moun¬ 
tains and pierced the crystal depths of the lake. Another hour of 
tingling wonderment and Co. “D’s” train came to a standstill in 
cosmopolitan Chambery. Clouds rolled over the mountain sides 
and soon rain was falling fast. 

Within the station area a queer crowd was passing to and fro. 
Peasant mountaineers bearing (apparently) all their earthly pos¬ 
sessions jammed the passageways and excitedly jostled their neighbors 
for the right of fullest personal liberties. Soldiers from all allied 
countries stirred through the crowd, some returning from leave, 
others newly arrived. Chambery is near the heart of France’s most 
attractive scenery. Here was the American Red Cross as though to 
give the 332nd one last farewell on French soil. Only a short delay, 
one last glance at the great cross surmounting the highest mountain 
overlooking the city, and Co. “D” waved its adieus to Chambery. 
A drizzling rain fell. 


The next stop half an hour later was made at Montmelian, nestling 
in the shadow of Mt. Savoie, Mt. Glazier, and Mt. Montmelian. 
By this time the rain had ceased. Heavily leaved trees dripped with 
water so recently fallen; the atmosphere was charged with the odor of 
fir and summer flowers. 

Here half an hour’s delay to wash and clean up permitted some 
of the men to climb a little hill to a spot where a more commanding 
view of the mighty snow-covered crags could be had. The scene was 
an inspiring one. A great trinity of walls rose to the very heavens. 
A giant causeway stretched far to the west and the setting sun. 
“Look,” said an English Red Cross nurse, “and if the sun comes 
out you’ll see Mont Blanc.” Then as though to gratify the sensi¬ 
bilities of every man, a ray of golden sunset pierced the dark gray 
mass of clouds wrapping the crest; the clouds dispersed and slowly 
fell away from the mountain crest, unfolding a crystal shaft spark¬ 
ling in the golden shaft of light, and Co. “D” recalled the words of 
Byron in Manfred. 

Mont Blanc is the monarch of mountains, 

They crowned him long ago 
On a throne of rocks, in a robe of clouds, 

With a diadem of snow. 

The engine shrieked. These pioneering American soldiers 
scrambled to find their places on the train. Darkness fell fast down 
in the valley. The train moved into the night and into the region 
of never ending snow. A region of eternal ice is cold; it is needless 
to say this night, the last on the soil of France, was not a comfortable 
one. 

X 

Co. “D” awoke early next morning, July 28, in Italy. How 
could anyone sleep in such a scene? The men lined the doors of the 
box cars gazing on the snow-covered sides and valleys of the giant 
peaks around. A warm sun shone in a cold air. The sky was cloud¬ 
less blue—a blue that only an artist might paint. 

During a brief halt many dashed the cold water in their faces from 
a railroad pump to refresh and awaken themselves. An electric engine 
(Westinghouse) was attached to the train and the descent began to 
the plains of Italy below. 

Every aspect of sky and mountain was ample evidence that Italy 
is a magic land “of ever varying beauties, a glory of sunshine and 
light, the odor of flowers, the mingling green of pine and palm, skies 
of unclouded blue, and seas and lakes of emerald.” 

At every home, every hamlet, men and women and children 
ardently greeted the men who had come to offer themselves in Italy’s 
trying hour. 

The Italian people, instead of wildly gesticulating their hurrahs 
(as do Americans), merely raise their outstretched right hand about 


or above the level of the head, back of the hand outward, and slowly 
open and close the fingers. • The gesture, peculiarly dignified and 
refined, seems to say, “Come here! You are welcome.” 

Slowly the giant Alps fell to the rear. Extreme heat replaced the 
early morning cold as the train wormed its way over the Piedmont 
Plain, a district full of natural beauties and unique monuments, to 
which the train had now descended. 

As the train entered Turin, the cradle of the new Italy, great 
crowds from grounds to housetop filled every available space and 
yelled themselves hoarse in a spontaneous outburst of wild joy. The 
spacious railroad station was pleasingly decorated with Allied flags, 
the Stars and Stripes most conspicuous beside the colors of Italy. 
After detraining the personnel of Companies “ C ” and “D ” marched 
fifteen blocks through Turin’s modern streets packed by dense cheer¬ 
ing throngs. After an hour’s stop, the advance proceeded through 
level fields of grape vines and mulberry, which cover northern Italy. 
The Alps were now on the left of the route—a dark cloud-like border 
on the northern horizon. The advance met the same enthusiastic 
welcome (if not more enthusiastic) as that of the morning. At 
Vercelli, famous in the literary world for the “Vercelli Book,” and 
in history for Marius’ victory over the Cimbri in 101 B. C., the re¬ 
ception was equally as zealous, if not on as large a scale, as that at 
Turin. 

But the climax came later. 


XI 

At 3:00 p. m., Sunday, July 28, the American troops entered 
Milan. 

In the city’s outskirts, over vacant lots, down street and avenue, 
thousands rushed to the train, waving, shouting, cheering. Children 
clambered over railroad cuts and up embankments, only to see the 
last car go by. Ahead and high above the tracks a monster viaduct 
was filled with expectant, anxibus, overjoyed people. 

As the shrieking engine entered the train shed, a long line of 
Italian troops stood at “Present Arms,” while an Italian military 
band played the “Star Spangled Banner.” A mighty cheer went up 
from the masses in the shed—a cheer immediately taken up by the 
crowd without. 

Beautifully gowned women and girls rushed forward bearing gar¬ 
lands of fresh flowers as if a great conqueror had come. Companies 
“C” and “D” soon formed their ranks; the gates swung open and 
the parade began amid the exultant cheers of a grateful race. 

Flowers, generous and costly tributes to the American Army 
and People, were hurled upon the marching troops. They came 
from bystanders, from porches and windows above,—they seemed to 
rain from the very heavens; they fell upon and around the men till 
the route became one harmonious blend of odor and color. Elegantly 


dressed women and men, crowding every available inch of space, 
every window, every door, vied with one another in cheering loudest. 
The din increased as the march proceeded. 

“Viva 1’ America! Viva 1’ Italia!” cried the mass. 

Young men and young women walked beside the ranks, grasping 
the hands of the men as though the latter might be creatures of 
divine origin. Women alternately wept and cried for joy, while 
above the noisy turmoil rose the happy ejaculations of the crowd, 
drunken with emotions of enthusiasm and good will, “Viva 1’ America! 
Viva 1’ America!” 

Men embraced and kissed one another, then fell to cheering madly. 
Voices of women, tears streaming down their faces, were choked by 
sobs. 

Tighter and tighter grew the pressure of the dense crowd on the 
flanks; then, suddenly, as the column swung into the “Piazza del 
Duomo” and passed “II Duomo,” the flanks could stand the pressure 
no longer. The crowd, now uncontrollable, almost bore the men from 
their feet in a mad frenzy to honor these first combatant American 
troops in Italy. The exultant cries continued, “Viva 1’ America! 
Viva 1’ America!” 

The irresistible pressure shattered the ranks. The stiff wall of 
reserve of the Anglo-Saxon could no longer resist the mighty flood of 
human emotion that surged against it and in that sublime moment, 
seizing the inspiration of the hour, the men in khaki spoke for America, 
and cried back, “Viva 1’ Italia! Viva 1’ Italia!” 

In the words of General Donadeo, “the anxious and joyous people 
of that blessed soil opened their arms and acclaimed with their Latin 
soul the incomparable advance guard; stirred all the flags of liberty; 
sung the hymns of liberty; and thus elevated to the limpid Italian 
sky, the proud salute to the American soldier.” 

Dazed by this reception, the companies made their w T ay back to 
the station where the magnificent piazza without was packed by tens 
of thousands of the city’s happy and enthusiastic populace whose 
very presence there seemed to say, “Thank you, brother; be you 
welcome; we were awaiting you; we w'ere so sure you would be here, 
because you have sworn to be wherever there is a fight for liberty; 
where one dies and wans; w r here one lives days of legendary heroism 
ard where the future of humanity is being decided.” 

The troops boarded the train. The sun was setting on the blue 
horizon. The strains of the “Star Spangled Banner” flooded the sta¬ 
tion and fell upon the concourse assembled without. Every man 
stood at salute. The train began to move and a mighty cheer went 
up from the crowd. With the Italians the American troops lifted 
their arms in solemn oath, and almost aloud exclaimed, “We will win.” 

Milan, that magnificent city, was soon lost to view in the falling 
night, and the American troops moved forw r ard over the plains— 
somewTere. 




General Treat, Duca d’Aosta and other American and Italian Officers, 













ROYAL ITALIAN ARMY 


GENERAL STAFF 


Order of the day to the Army 


I INFORM the Army of the arrival of American troops in Italy. 

The great Nation, which has come to the battle field in the name 
of Humanity and Right and which, in a few months, carrying out a 
unique enterprise in history, has created and transported across the 
ocean an Army imposing for its number and power, has to-day sent 
her troops also to our front as a solemn and proud sanction of the 
brotherly solidarity which she has already affirmed in other ways. 

The sea, more than dividing, has united our two Nations. Italy 
for years and years has sent to the United States millions of her sons, 
workers exemplary in their alacrity, tenacity and sobriety, who have 
learnt by direct experience the value of the power and will of the 
Americans and their unbending faith in the rights of free men. Many 
of these workers are among you, Soldiers of Italy; they replied to the 
call of our great Native Land in war. You all know what glory the 
young Army of the United States has won on the battle fields of France. 

' These strong troops have come to-day to fight by our side and I, 
in your name, welcome them with faith in the future, in our brotherly 
union of arms and in our mutual successes. With them and the other 
Allies we will proceed with earnestness along the road which the cause 
of civilization has pointed out to us and we will together reach our 
common goal, that victory which will allow the serene development of 
the work of civilized men and the progress of free Nations. 

General DIAZ 


General Head Quarters, 
1st August 1918. 


23 




XII 

No onecouldbe blamed for having a nightmare under the stupefy¬ 
ing influence of three successive nights in a box car. So, when a 
member of Co. “D” stood in a box car door at 1:00 a. m., descrying 
the obscure lines of a large lake, simultaneously telling of it, his 
companions attributed his unappreciated remarks to a righteously 
disordered intellect. But he suffered no mental aberration! 

At 1:00 a. m., July 29, the train pursuing an easterly course 
passed the southern confines of Lago di Garda (Lake Garda), at Pes- 
chiera, and in less than an hour stopped in the railroad yards at 
Verona. Here an engine was attached to the rear of the train and the 
direction of travel changed from east to southwest. 

An hour later, 3:00 a. m., the train arrived at Villafranca di 
Verona, twelve miles southwest of Verona. It was here, in the 
municipal building (still standing), that Napoleon III effected pre¬ 
liminaries of peace with Austria in 1859. 

After quickly detraining and while standing in company front, 
many eyes turned upward to the fascinating sky, stretching like a 
sea above, sprinkled with myriads of stars, large, luminous, and 
sprakling. The Italian night, dressed in her brightest constellations 
for this occasion, did for these American soldiers what such Italian 
nights have done for men from time immemorial—it held them 
charmed, as they revelled and rejoiced in its exquisite beauty. But 
the beauty of a night is a thought too sublime for toleration by a good 
soldier—an American soldier—in time of war. 

From the station came the spiriting strains of martial music 
played by an Italian military band; commands were given, and 
Co. “D” entered the area within the station where the Red Cross, 
undaunted by the night arrival of new troops, served hot coffee and 
light refreshments. Italian army trucks stood by the roadside. Into 
these the troops were leaded. The early morning mists were lifting 
from the plain; the first streakings of dawn appeared as the trucks 
rolled over the perfect macadam road, girted by rich fields, from 
Villafranca to Sommacompagna, 8 kms. north of Villafranca, and 
15 kms. west of Verona. 

Scmmaccmpagra is a typical Italian village of brick and stucco 
houses. The people are of the poorer type, the stores and shops were 
of a mean sert. 

Billets were found in out-of-the-way dismal garrets and in gloomy 
sheds infested with fleas, rats and mice. Reveille was at 5:30 a. m. 
At 7:30 a. m., the heavy day’s work began under a scorching hot sun. 
Co. “D” men suffered great distress, since by company order they 
were not allowed canteers; hence each half day’s work was done 
with parched and thirsty lips and throat. An advance Y. M. C. A. 
canteen contributed to the needs of the men, the first “Y” to be with 
the 332nd in its six weeks overseas. Its service was welcome and 


gratifying, especially since nothing that an American wished could be 
had in the shops of the village. From this time on the “Y” service 
was worthy its lofty inception. 

It was July 31 that the regiment marched to the aerodrome, half 
way between Villafranca and Sommacompagna, to rehearse for its 
review by King Victor Emmanuel III. The following morning at 
4:45 first call sounded, and at 7:00 a. m. the 332nd marched upon the 
reviewing field. A large stand, decorated with bunting and flags of 
all the allied nations, held the many noted persons who attended the 
review and who represented the nations fighting the Hun. Many 
favorable criticisms were passed on the discipline and military bear¬ 
ing of the 332d by those occupying the reviewing stand. Return to 
Sommacompagna was made at 10:00 a. m., and that afternoon drill 
resumed in the intense heat. 

At this point dysentery broke out among the men. Little relief 
was given at the infirmary, and those reporting ill were marked 
“duty,” although many were too weak to perform work. The per¬ 
centage of those having severe dysentery rose very high and on 
Monday, August 12, a member of Co. “C” died from this cause and 
was buried with military honors at Villafranca. 

Intensive drill continued. There was no let-up in the torrid heat- 
The enlisted personnel of Co. “ D” occupied low tile-roofed buildings 
surrounding a hollow square with a large court in the center. At 
night the air was filled with mosquitoes and gnats, while mice and 
rats frolicked over the sleeping forms of the men. Some tents were 
pitched in the courtyard without, where sand fleas and mosquitoes 
added much discomfort. Finally mosquito nets were issued and 
these gave some relief. Over in the church one organization slept 
on the stone slab over the bodies of the Austrian dead buried many 
years before. An occasional soldier, upon awakening, found himself 
embracing a skeleton of uncertain age, the result of some practical 
joke. During these days, food, which was scarce and of very poor 
quality, consisted mainly of black war-bread, corned beef, rice, hard¬ 
tack, and bitter, black coffee. The men squatted on the ground in 
the burning sun to eat. No other place was permitted for use; there 
was no shade. 

Evidences of war, while here, were twofold. The battle lines could 
be located by the presence of observation balloons, seen through 
glasses on the distant sky-line of the Alps, while constantly, from the 
nearby aerodrome, came the whirring sound of propellers on ascending 
and descending planes going to and returning from the mountain 
front. The sound of artillery duels in the mountains reached the 
village each day. 

Permission was granted on August 4 for the first group of men to 
visit Verona. Verona is a strongly fortified city built in the winding 
valley of the Adige, with suburbs on higher ground rising close above 


24 


the main city. The strongly fortified Castle Vecchio, built in the 
14th century, stands in the line of the wall built by Theodoric close 
by the river. 

This interesting city has numerous remains of Roman civilization. 
Of these remains, the Amphitheatre, a building of the end of the 
First century, resembles closely the Coliseum in Rome. There 
are remains of an old Roman theater on the banks of the River 
Adige. The city, almost under the Austrian lines, was an armed 
camp during the summer of 1918. 

Thirteen lost its unsavory reputation when, on August 13, the 
entire regiment arose early and marched to a point 1 km. east of 
Valeggio on the Mincio River and there pitched camp. On August 14, 
the camp was completely and carefully pitched. The change from 
the stuffy and ofttimes crowded conditions prevalent in the villages 
to an open air camp was welcome, and from now on till its departure 
from Valeggio this camp and its surroundings brought much pleasure 
to the members of the 332d. The spot was picturesque. 

Just a little distance to the north the Custoza hills arose, and on 
their crest could be seen the monument which commenorates the 
battles of 1858 and 1866 between Austria and Italy, while beyond 
Custoza the Alps stood in bold relief, occasionally dotted, even in 
the hottest weather, by snow-covered peaks. 

Valeggio itself, one kilometer west, lay around the base of, and on, 
the north side of a hill, rising sheerly 400 ft. from the plain, on the 
camp side, and dropping abruptly 500 ft. to the Mincio River on the west. 
An historic looking and age-beaten and medieval castle stood on the 
summit of the hill, dominating the region for twenty miles in every 
direction. West of the hill the crystal clear Mincio, taking its water 
from Lago de Garda, flowed swiftly on its way to the Po. An old 
Roman bridge spanned the Mincio, a fitting companion for the 
ruined castle high above. Many successive days the Amex troops 
marched through Valeggio and up the hill, then down the other side 
past the bridge, across the Mincio to a level valley covered with mul¬ 
berry and grape vine where realistic combat work was executed. 
To the east and south of the Valeggio camp site extended an almost 
unbroken level; 12 kms. to the east was Villafranca; 40 kms. to the 
south was Mantova (Mantua); Lago di Garda was 10 kms. northeast. 

A heavy drill schedule began at once. Shade could be found no¬ 
where; the sun’s burning rays could not be avoided. The nights 
spent in the open tents under a boundless sky, glistening with bright 
stars, amply compensated for the scorching noonday heat. 

The Y. M. C. A. and the Red Cross, the latter under Miss Mc¬ 
Intosh and Mr. (Daddy) Butler, did effective and excellent work for 
the members of 332d. Both organizations did all that was necessary 
to fulfill the hopes of the American public. Their presence brought 
joy to the men, since their advent here might be said to mark the 


first real service to the 332d of either organization since the regiment’s 
arrival in Europe. 

The regiment continued intensive training through the late 
summer; each man, already overtrained, began hoping that the 
impending day would soon arrive when the big drive in Italy would 
begin. 

At the close of the day’s heavy, and by this time, monotonous 
drill, the men spent their evenings on the streets and in the small 
shops of Valeggio, or bathed in the clear, swift waters of the Mincio. 
The camp life, too, was diversified by Sunday trips to Lago di Garda 
and Verona. 

All methods of warfare known to the modern world were presented 
to the 332d in a practical way on the bombing range; artillery, flares, 
gas, shrapnel bombs, gas bombs, smoke bombs, automatic rifles, 
trench mortars, machine guns, rifle grenades, and liquid fire—all 
were used in the manoeuvers. By the close of summer the 332d was 
doubtless one of the most highly trained regiments in the U. S. Army. 

In preparation for an international Field Meet under the military, 
at Rome, meets were arranged to choose the American representatives 
from the 332d Infantry and a battalion elimination contest was held 
on Sept. 3. Co. “D” ranked well in points won. In the Regi¬ 
mental Field Meet, Sept. 8, the following men of Co. “D” won 
places on the American team to participate in the international events 
at Rome: Sergt. Bell, Cpl. Noel Taylor, Cpl. Halter, Cpl. L. Snyder, 
Pvt. Olsen. Cpl. Sinesio acted as interpreter, while Lt. Whinnery 
was in charge. 

Tuesday, Sept. 2, saw the departure from camp of the first Ameri¬ 
can combatant troops on the Italian front; the second battalion 
went to the Piave lines where they entered the trenches at Varago. 
The ground where their tents had stood was leveled, along with the 
streets and clever gravel designs before the tents. From this it was 
plainly evident that the second battalion would not return to the 
Valeggio camp, and with this indication there was revived in the men 
the hope for early action and a change from the depressing influence 
of constant training. The men were stale and overtrained by severe, 
intensive drills for long hours every day in the hot sun. 

Combat work continued at the range and being of a peculiarly 
practical nature and free from the wearisome “Squads Right” and 
“Squads Left,” this training in actual assault broke the dull monotony 
of the usual schedule. By this time, in drill and combat, scarcely 
an infantry movement, or mode of warfare, scarcely a device known 
to military tactics, that had not been tried by the 332d. 

At Custoza Hill, on the very ground fought over in 1858 and again f 
in 1866 by Austrians and Italians, now marked by two monuments, 
the reg'ment entered the trenches and did its first actual trench work 
overseas. The Custoza region was pitted by trenches and dugouts, 



1. Old Roman Bridge. 2. Medieval Castle, Valeggio. 3. Valeggio. 4. Bombing range and top of bridge from castle. 5. Enter 
Valeggio. 6. “Mother and Daddy.” 7. Municipium where Napoleon made Armistice. 8. Custoza monu¬ 
ment. 9. To Valeggio. 10. Modern Agriculture. 11. Monument, Custoza. 












and covered with barbed wire entanglements in preparation for any 
military exigency that might arise from a successful attack by enemy 
forces from the Trento area. While here the Amex men helped 
themselves to the grapes in the vicinity of the trenches and as a result, 
the levy made in equity of this gluttonous act eventually cost each 
man three lire. 

September 12, the regiment suffered a severe blow by the explo¬ 
sion of a Stokes Mortar gun on the Borghetto combat field, when 
seven officers and men were killed, and almost two score others 
wounded and mangled. This accident alone took a greater toll of 
American lives than the actual fighting in the Battle of Vittorio- 
Veneto. 

The Arditi, commanded by Major Allegretti, under whose direction 
most of the manoeuvers on the combat range were carried out, enter¬ 
tained the 332d Infantry at a Field Meet in which they demonstrated 
to their American “Fratelli” their aptitude for, and skill in, athletics. 

Marching upon the field at double time they opened their meet 
by quickly forming a triangular pyramid at the top of which was 
unfurled the “Stars and Stripes” as their military band struck up 
the “Star Spangled Banner.” This stirring initial event preceded 
a fast and clever Soccer Game, followed by a Tug-of-War, Races, 
Jumps, Pole Vault, Hand Springs, and Bomb Throwing Contests. 

The command came on Wednesday, October 2, to destroy the 
gravel designs around the tents, to level the ground, and to fill in the 
streets of the camp. That night pup tents covered the former camp 
site now transformed by picks and shovels to a rough area of torn 
and irregular earth. The 332d had at last received the long-awaited 
order to go to the front. 

XIII 

The hike from Valeggio to Villafranca on the afternoon of Octo¬ 
ber 3, was made in ideal weather conditions. At the station, the 
same to receive the 332d, there was but a very short delay in en¬ 
training, after which the route led eastward toward Verona and the 
Piave River. Speculation as to the destination was rife. Vicenza 
was reached and passed; the course proceeded eastward in the dark¬ 
ness broken by flashes of intermittent light on the northern horizon. 
A dull reverberating roar spread over the plains around; the flashes 
and the sound spoke plainly of the gigantic struggle for mastery of 
the Alpine peaks. At 2:30 a. m., October 4, the order, “All out” 
came. The air was chill; the darkness, intense; the silence, oppres¬ 
sive, except for the sound of heavy artillery wreaking its deadly wrath 
on the giant walls of Grappa. 

The buildings took strange and fantastic shapes in the morning 
dark, while the silent uninhabited streets spoke more of death than 
life. The first battalion marched to a large cavalry barracks, a bale 


of straw was distributed to each squad and in a little time each mart 
lay on the floor in the spot where a few minutes before he had stood 
in the ranks. 

Their senses steeped in sleep, the men of Co. “D” did not awake 
till they were ordered to police the unsanitary and filthy camp area 
at 8:00 a. m. “Where are we?” was on the lips of everyone. “Tre¬ 
viso” came back the answer. No one asked “Where is Treviso?” 
A glance about made such a query needless. 

An Italian guard stood at the gate in the high wall around the 
barracks. A large drill field lay outside, west of the gate. Across 
the drill field, 300 yards away, the main highway was filled with 
troops and supply trains; artillery caissons rolled swiftly forward, 
drawn by clattering, banging tractors; automobiles bearing allied 
officers of various ranks, but all with serious mien, dashed by. Ber- 
saglieri pedaled their way cleverly through the congested areas; 
small mules borne dowm with machine guns, ammunition, and sup¬ 
plies, fed in the shadow of the trees that lined both sides of the road. 
Aeroplanes darted low across the terrain, or, circling magnificently, 
rose steadily upward, seeking the best camouflage the sky and clouds 
offered. Others came from the shadow of one cloud to disappear in 
the heavy vapor of another. Austrian airmen manoeuvered warily 
to outwit their clever Italian enemies. A battery of anti-aircraft 
guns, concealed almost in the shadow of the barracks, opened fire. 
There now could be no question about the location of Treviso—-this 
was the Italian front. 

The Alps rose in full view to the north. The front lines could 
easily be discerned by the position of mammoth observation balloons 
placed at great heights and visible for miles in the direction of both 
mountains and sea. 

****** 

Treviso, a flourishing and renowned center in the middle ages, is 
situated at the conjunction of the Sile River with the Botteniga. 
Pliny speaks of it very early, however, when, referring to the Sile, 
he says it flows “ex montibus Travisanis;” that is, from the moun¬ 
tains to the present Municipium at Treviso. 

The city is eighteen miles north by west of Venice and is con¬ 
nected with the lagoons at Venice by a canal. The town has a 
mediaeval appearance with its high walls flanked by bastions, the moat 
surrounding the walls, and the narrow, colonnaded streets. The 
imposing 12th Century Cathedral, restored in the 15th century, has 
five cupolas. The Gothic Church of San Nicols has a curious wooden 
roof and is adorned in peace time with admirable frescoes. The 
Borgo Cavour previous to the war had a library of 50,000 volumes 
and a picture gallery. 



Treviso Scenes. 1. British Cemetery. 2. Ruined ‘cassa.’ 3. Another. 4. Another home. 5. Street scene. 6. Unharmed 
residence. 7. Casserma. 8. Damaged statue at Villa San Margherita. 9. Unruly captives in Prison Camp. 




















But at the time American troops entered the city, it was a scene 
of desolation. The streets were a litter of brick, mortar, and timber; 
a civilian inhabitant was not to be seen—it was as though the in¬ 
habitants had fled in a night. There were no frescoes in the churches, 
no books in the libraries, no paintings in the gallery. Everything had 
been destroyed or carried away. The narrow, silent, and dirty streets 
heard only the echo of one’s footfalls. 

The region of Treviso is sacred ground where the Italian soldiers 
held out so tenaciously against the Germans and Austrians. Here 
many thousand young heroes voluntarily sacrificed their lives for the 
redemption and greatness of their country. 

Each day it was expected would bring orders to go to the lines. 
Each day brought its thrill of attempted air raids, of an observation 
balloon being shot down, wrapped in tongues of flame and clouds of 
gas smoke. 

Monday, October 7, brought a new experience. That day orders 
came to make packs. This order being executed, the 332nd men prac¬ 
ticed crossing the swift current of the Sile river in small boats handled 
by the men themselves. This training, according to report, was in 
preparation of an assault over the Piave into the face of the enemy 
on the east bank. In a short time, after several days’ practice, the 
crossing was made safely and quickly. The evening of the same day, 
a Stand of Colors, the gift of the Italian Colony in New York, was 
formally presented to the 332nd assembled in formation on the drill 
field to receive them. 

October 12, Columbus Day, was made notable by a visit of Samuel 
Gompers, President of The American Federation of Labor. He stirred 
the hearts of the men by an eloquent plea for the emancipation of 
millions in the bondage of political slavery, for the enthronement of 
political righteousness, and he paid fine tribute to the men who fell 
so gallantly on the bloody Western Front. Mr. Gompers concluded 
his concise and inspiring address by a magnificent appeal to the men 
of the 332nd to act courageously in the task they were about to under¬ 
take. His assurance that the folks back home were sharing the 
trials and pains of the age along with their soldiers aroused in the 
men a more intense enthusiasm to “do something.” In the period 
from June 8 to October 7, the 332nd had not seen or heard the voice 
of an American citizen. President Gompers, speaking for the Ameri¬ 
can People, bearing his message direct from home, gratified an intense 
longing. 

Within the first week at Treviso, complete equipments were issued 
for action, including ammunition, rubber boots, and jerkins. Imme¬ 
diately a series of long hikes, under the burden of full equipment, was 
started for a final period of intensive training before beginning the 
drive which all knew was soon to be opened. No one was excused 
from these hikes which we shall describe here in brief. No one is 


able to estimate or gainsay their importance in bringing a tremendous 
victory to the Allies. 

Heavy packs were made up early each morning. One hundred 
twenty rounds of ammunition, helmets, gas-masks, leather jerkin, 
and iron rations were carried. Raincoats or overcoats completed the 
equipment. Men with automatics carreid a muset bag filled with 
ammunition. The series was arranged to start with twelve miles 
and increased two miles each day. 

Every morning the regiment was astir early, packs made and 
slung. After marching to the city, the companies separated, each 
pursuing a different course along the excellent macadam roads that 
form an intricate network in the region around Treviso. 

The first battalion before breaking up passed the railhead and 
depot just outside the west wall. The march was made in double 
file, not in squad formation, so that when once the march began, the 
interval lengthening between men, each company appeared larger 
than it really was. The rolling kitchens, supply trains, and ambu¬ 
lances followed in the rear. 

Sixteen companies wended their way along the highways each 
day, all apparently marching in different directions. 

A daily change was ordered in headgear: one day, overseas caps 
were worn; the next day, campaign hats; while the third saw every 
man wearing a steel helmet. Likewise, no two successive days saw 
the men dressed the same. Jerkins worn one day, changed to rain¬ 
coats the next; blouses one day, became overcoats the following. 

All this moving was done within sight of the Austrian observation 
balloons, and with a differently arranged equipment each day it could 
easily appear to the Austrian observers that a great number of fresh 
American troops were arriving on trains during the night and were 
taking up their places in the back areas of the Piave front. By 
evening each organization had returned to its billets of the night 
before, there to rest and gather strength for another gruelling hike on 
the morrow. , 

Feet became very sore, and many with weakened -vitality were 
nearing sickness, but no relief was to be had at the infirmary since 
the “medics” excused no one from duty. The ranks halted for ten 
to fifteen minutes soon after starting each morning in order to permit 
those who had gone to the infirmary to catch up. With the increase 
in the march to twenty miles under such a load, the men found them¬ 
selves doing about all that lay within the power of human endurance. 
Rice and O. D. coffee, frequently accompanied by a couple of quinine 
capsules, made the breakfast; slum, bread and O. D. coffee, the noon 
mess, and slum again for supper. Though weakened and worn out, 
the spirits of the men remained very high. A spirit of revenge fre¬ 
quently found expression in words when some exasperated “Sammy” 
vowed how he would treat the enemy “for causing all this hell.” 



Piave Battle Scenes. 1. Barbed wire gates at roadside. 2. Austrian front lines after terrible Allied barrage. 3. Liquid fire, 

attack. 4. Camouflaged road. 




























The night of October 21, in the late evening, many groups talked 
of the rare and unusual beauty of the sky which rose to the zenith, 
a remarkable blue-black dome. A full moon majestically climbed 
upward out of the east, a shining silver ball against the dark sky. 
Later, masses of white vapor flitted quickly from the southwest to 
northeast, and as they became denser spread a gray pallor over the 
earth and sky. 

At 10:30 p. m., after the last man had gone to sleep, a terrific con¬ 
cussion brought every man to his feet. Then came another, and 
another. The anti-air craft battery at the side of the billets opened 
up a rapid fire. Others could be heard all around—to the east, 
up and down the river; to the north, in the direction of the mountains; 
and to the west where we knew there were millions of shells piled in 
the ammunition dumps. The din just started increased rapidly. 

More planes came; terrific detonations caused the ground to 
tremble violently, the windows (w r hat were left) rattled nervously. 
The buildings shook. Deafening concussions in the air and on the 
ground multiplied in frequency. Shrapnel dashed down on the roof, 
and up against the stone wall of the billets. The air and heavens 
filled with exploding shells. Machine guns spitting their rattling 
fire, anti-aircraft batteries in full swing, fought back at the unseen 
enemy raiders. 

Great scissors of light crossing and recrossing the heavens pene¬ 
trated into every arc of the night. The cirrus clouds of the early 
evening now almost shut out the moon. Gradually the violence of 
the battle died down, the moon came out, and only scattered explo¬ 
sions could be heard as the enemy planes withdrew. The raid had 
lasted only eleven minutes, but its intensity made it seem an age. 
Twice, after about two-hour intervals, the raiders returned that 
night. 

For these raids no shelter, not a single dugout, was provided for 
protection. A mammoth bomb struck a short distance away, which 
would have exacted a heavy death toll had it struck the billets of 
Co. “D” and part of “C,” for only an unprotected tile roof covered 
their sleeping place which was one large, undivided floor. During 
these recent days, preparations were being made on all sides for a 
great offensive. 

The second battalion, which had occupied the front-line trenches 
since its departure from Valeggio, Sept. 10, now withdrew to pre¬ 
pare for the battle ahead; millions of shells of every caliber, care¬ 
fully camouflaged, filled the back areas and kept arriving by lorry and 
train; night after night, beginning with the sunset and continuing 
till dawn, swift frontward movement of supplies, shells, cannon and 
men, went on. 

During these hurried preparations, the announcement came that 
the 332nd Infantry was now incorporated in the 31st Division of the 


Tenth Italian Army. Co. “A” and Co. “C” for several successive 
nights practiced an assault upon the Grave de Popodapoli, an island 
of the Piave, in preparation for a night dash upon the island. 

October 25, the order to pack up was given. The regiment, 
equipped for action, assembled upon the drill field; then in squad 
formation it passed in review before an Italian general. To the 
dismay of every man, the column swung south toward the barracks, 
and long before the second and third battalions w r ere through passing 
in review, the first had entered the court yard at the “casserma.” 

At the command, “Unsling packs and await orders,” the men 
threw off their packs in disgust—and waited. 

That day passed, night came. Straw piled up in the corners of 
the buildings and none too sanitary by this time, soon loosely covered 
the floor where the men threw themselves in no certain way. They 
lay in all their clothes, packs at their side, waiting the order to move. 

In the morning the straw was again piled up, packs and equip¬ 
ment slung, and everybody waited. That night the straw was 
scattered over the floor and another night passed—waiting. 

Another day and another night—waiting. 

Then another day—but not another night! Out into the drill- 
field, onto the road, in the direction of the front, the long squad 
column of the 332nd Infantry moved silently into the moonless night. 


XIV 

The crucial hour had come! The time for launching the ever 
pending attack had arrived. The British, French, and Italians were 
about to strike from the Alps to the sea, and now the unbreakable 
spirit of America, the indomitable courage and mighty conviction of 
one hundred million people, would be represented there by one regi¬ 
ment of infantry, the 332nd, the same kind of Americans as those, who, 
on the bloody Western Front, were determining the destiny of empires. 

As they marched in the direction of the Grave de Popodapoli, a 
large island in the Piave, every man of the 332nd felt a thrill at the 
sight before him. An artillery barrage was being laid over the Piave 
as never before had been experienced on the Italian Front. Brilliant 
flashes of light silhouetting the mountains, illuminated the summit 
of Mt. Grappa, 5500 feet above and 25 miles distant. Toward the 
mouth of the Piave, 30 miles away, mighty flashes of radiant incan¬ 
descent fire from the Allied naval guns in the Adriatic made a spec¬ 
tacle so appalling that one stood transfixed with awe. The regular 
and mighty roar of cannon was on every hand. A wall of flame rose 
on three sides. The 332nd advanced toward the river into this inferno 
of fire and shell. The column halted. A terrific cannonade was going 
on ahead for possession of the pontoon bridge just erected over the 
river to the Island Grave de Popodapoli. The enemy planes threatened 


the bridge now the center of a maelstrom of steel. Allied anti-aircraft 
guns responded viciously. An observation balloon flashing signals to 
the artillery, nervously rose and fell as daring enemy planes threatened 
her safety. 

Daylight came and the men of the 332nd found they stood at a 
“V” road, 8 miles northeast of Treviso, in the small village of 
Varago, now a mass of debris. Every road was carefully camouflaged 
with every here and there barbed wire entanglements ready to fall on 
the road at the snap of a wire, while the low areas around were a 
complete network of barbed wire defense. The roads were choked 
with men and material waiting to cross the pontoon bridge. 

At the spot where Co. “D” waited in this battle choked area, an 
unusual and interesting shrine, consisting of a crucifix bearing the 
implements of Christ’s torture and death, challenged the forces of 
combat, and lent to the scene a strangely spiritual touch. Was there 
good or evil prophecy of coming events in this for the men of Co. “D”? 

Three times the bridge was destroyed, once by a German aviator 
and twice by enemy artillery. When daylight came, a hundred 
planes darted across the battle areas, or, high above, waited the signal 
to cross the river. 

The 332nd awaited orders right in the road. At 5:00 p. m. they 
came and were “Move into the field and camp.’’ For two days and 
a half the regiment lay there. The British had attacked across the 
Grave de Popodapoli with success; this was followed by the Italians 
on the right and more British on the left. On the morning of Octo¬ 
ber 31, orders came, and the 332nd soon was moving over the battle- 
rocked swamps and dikes on both sides of the Piave. 

It took just ten hours to make four Kms. over this congested road 
crowded with wounded prisoners and exhausted forces. The wagons 
sank deep into the sands of the river bed and thus retarded the ani¬ 
mals. Many dead lay in and around the trenches and shell holes 
of the islands, grim confirmation to the struggle that had taken place. 

The column reached the east bank of the river at dusk. The route 
was along shelled roads and into the little village of Cimadolmo, its 
buildings gutted with shells or razed to an unseemly heap of stone 
and mortar. Every little home was deserted; not an inhabitant 
remained; it was a phantom village. Frequent oaths of condemna¬ 
tion expressed the righteous resentment of the men. The tiring night 
march continued over shell-torn roads to Vazzolo, where camp was 
pitched in a field, outposts were established, and the first night over 
the Piave was spent on terrain just evacuated by a fleeing enemy. 
Preparation began early the next morning for a continued march. 
The movement began at 11:00 a. m., November 1. In the early after¬ 
noon a small high diked stream was crossed. Here heavy rear guard 
action had taken place between the enemy and the British. Many dead, 
clad in the Austrian field-gray, lay in the fields and in the ditches at 


the roadside. A fresh mound contained two hundred Austrian dead. 
Austrian machine gunners lay at every turn in the road and in every 
ditch; dead horses lay in field and ditch, the mounts of both pur¬ 
suing cavalry and of fugitives, slain by bombs from airplanes of the 
Allies. 

Driven by starvation the routed Austrians sabered pieces from 
the rumps of most of the dead animals. 

Night came. Iron rations began to be used. Tired under the 
heavy packs and with the food supply very low, the regiment bivou¬ 
acked on a low, wet spot. The night was cold; little rest was expected. 
Machine guns rattled on both flanks and in front. Any moment 
might bring a surprise attack or the necessity for quick offensive 
action against the enemy whose trail the regiment had followed 
closely since crossing the Piave. 

The rest was short; at one o’clock in the morning, November 2, 
the march resumed. A scant cup of O. D. coffee was given each 
man, nothing more. Up till now the regiment had been a reserve 
unit; from now on it became the advance guard of the Famous Tenth 
Army, made up of British, Italians and Americans. 

A quick advance began at 2:00 a. m. At 4:30 a. m. the advance 
troops reached Varda on the banks of the Livenza, at this point a 
rapid river. The Italian Pontieri had just completed the building of 
a pontoon foot bridge which could accommodate only one file. The 
Austrians had occupied the opposite bank only a few hours before. 
Crossing the foot bridge at its best was a slow and hazardous opera¬ 
tion. Once across the stream the march after the fleeing enemy 
resumed without delay, but at seven o’clock the line halted to await 
orders at Maron (a small group of two or three houses). 

The advance guard doubled. The enemy was in the immediate 
vicinity. Aeroplanes circled above them like an eagle darting for its 
prey; they swerved down onto the fleeing enemy; the missiles could 
now be easily seen from the troops’ position. A sudden flash lighted 
up the sky, which was followed by a deafening crash. Then another, 
and finally a third terrific explosion followed. The last concussion 
caused the earth to rock and quiver. The enemy was blowing his 
dumps, and destroying the bridges at his rear, the intensity of the ex¬ 
plosions proved his nearness. 

At this point the high command assigned a five kilometer front 
to the Americans in advance of the Tenth Army. From now on 
careful watching had to be done of every place affording possible con¬ 
cealment. The second platoons of each company were assembled and 
formed a combat line, directed by Ft. Trik, Regimental Intelligence 
Officer. The second platoon of Co. “D“ was in charge of Sgt. Bell. 

Territory was assigned. The platoon leaders’ watches were set, 
and the enemy designated by a wave of the hand. No maps were 
furnished—direction by compass was the only guide. The men were 



V 




























































































Some Piave Scents, 














commanded, on coming in contact with the enemy, to keep going 
forward, exterminating machine gunners, snipers, and stragglers, 
and on no condition to be held up by the foe. Full equipment, both 
marching and fighting, made up the load of these men. At 9:30 a.m., 
the zero hour, the second platoons jumped off, each in its assigned 
position, advancing across country at a prescribed cadence of 120 
steps per minute. These troops combed the fields while the main 
body took the highway. 

The Italian terrain was cut by many large and small rivers, ditches, 
and canals, thus forcing the men to wade waist deep in water; again, 
with difficulty, they struggled through vineyards; consequently, the 
advance was extremely arduous. With a rapidity that was almost 
unbelievable, this skirmish line swept on over all the natural barriers 
that spread over the plains; the liason, however, could not be main¬ 
tained. 

At Prata the bridge over the San Rocco River had been blown up. 
Crossing was made on the ruins. Machine gun carts were dismounted 
and carried over; the mules swam. The patrols, forced to detour here, 
double timed to get their 2 kms. lead. The men under heavy equip¬ 
ment, weakened and fatigued by the tremendous physical exertion 
without food, discarded much of their necessary equipment. It was a 
question of sacrificing their equipment or of falling from exhaustion. 

Search and inquiry at isolated houses revealed that the enemy 
had just fled; that he had taken live stock, linen and furniture, and 
had destroyed what he could not take. 

At Corva, a small town en route, the Italian inhabitants said 
the Austrians, who had learned of the coming Americans, were fleeing 
in haste. They—the Austrians— believed the number of Americans 
to be very great , consequently the Austrian retreat was disordered and 
hasty. At 12:30 p. m. the advance guard halted to eat from the 
iron rations. 

The halt was made at a spot where an American plane had been 
brought down by enemy machine gun fire. Information secured at 
a nearby farmhouse revealed the plane had fallen on October 29 and 
the American aviator had died as he reached earth. The chassis was 
perforated with bullets; blood was spattered inside the body of the 
machine, while the bombs had fallen from their position and lay on 
the ground unexploded. 

Rapidly that afternoon the American troops went forward, search¬ 
ing every position of possible enemy concealment. At 4:00 p. m., 
after a long detour, the second platoon under Sgt. Bell advanced to 
its objective, Cimpello, where it took up Cossack posts on the road 
running north and south. The platoon displayed white aeroplane 
panels, showing to the airmen the exact line of advance, which display 
received prompt acknowledgment by the aviators. 


The advance was now onto the enemy’s rear lines. Austrian 
soldiers, darting across the roadways, disappeared in the underbrush 
like wild animals; or with uplifted hands surrendered to the rapidly 
advancing Americans and Italians. 

It was a hard and fatiguing day for the Second Platoon which 
was now relieved from the task of establishing outposts east of Cim¬ 
pello by the First and Fourth Platoons in charge of Lt. Yetter and 
Sgt. Vawter, respectively. Each platoon established three posts of 
two men each; those not on duty slept on their rifles, ready to move 
at any alarm. That night battle fires flared north and south; the 
sound of crashing bridges and night combat was on both sides, the 
sound often coming—especially in the direction of the Adriatic—from 
points far to the rear, indicating beyond doubt that the American 
troops were well forward in this decisive drive. The Cossack Post, 
established by Co. “D,” formed a most advanced sentry. 

Exhausted and too tired to eat iron rations, the Second Platoon 
men drank some water O.K.’d by the “Medics,” then fell asleep in 
a hay loft located by Lt. Karl E. Whinnery. These men had tramped 
through fields and thickets covered with natural and artificial barriers, 
had waded streams and detoured long distances with almost no food 
and water on a road route of twenty miles. It is conservative to 
estimate they covered that day between twenty-five or thirty miles 
in their search for the enemy. 

At 2:00 a. m., November 3, came the command that three platoons 
must move on to the Tagliamento River, 20 kms. away. The com¬ 
pany was thus divided: Lt. Whinnery moved forward on the enemy 
with the Second, Third and Fourth Platoons, Capt. Stathers, of Co. 
“ D,” remained in the rear w y ith the First Platoon, and the main body. 

Capt. Maroni, Adjutant of the Veneto Brigade, to which the 
regiment was now attached, was in full charge of these three platoons 
whose dangerous mission was to prevent the destruction of the Ponte 
Della Delizia, the Treviso-Udine highway bridge over the Taglia¬ 
mento. From Cimpello the movement became a dash northward 
past allied sentries bordering the Meduna River. Challenge after 
challenge halted the men of “ D.” On the Udine highway the march 
turned east tow r ard Casarsa and the Tagliamento. Upon arriving at 
Casarsa, Capt. Maroni learned the Austrian rear guard surrounded 
the village and even at that moment was evacuating the east side of it. 
The men of “D” here ate their last morsel of hardtack and canned 
beef. 

7:30 a. m. came. Armored cars followed by Italian Arditi moved 
northeastward from Casarsa. Capt. Maroni ordered “D” forward 
eastward on the LTdine highway. The march was forced. Fleeing 
figures could be seen going over the bridgehead. The three platoons 
hurried forward to the bridge only to find it fired at both ends and 
fanned by the wind. Clouds of yellow-gray smoke rolled skyward 



Austrian mace for killing wounded. Italian armored motor car. Naval guns which swept Venetian region from head of Adriatic. 

Observation balloon. 



















as the flames consumed the tar used on the bridge flooring. A halt 
for rest was not made until Lt. Aston brought word from the rear 
that many men were on the point of falling from exhaustion. On the 
last lap the stronger men assisted the weaker. A concrete fire trench, 
designed and placed so as to command the highway, lay on the south 
of the road, a short distance from the bridge, and the Americans took 
cover here till the vicinity could be scouted. 

Hi $ afe 

The Tagliamento River takes its source in the Carnic Alps, flows 
eastward through the mountains, and after turning abruptly to the 
south, empties into the Friulian Plateau in an alluvial fan, approxi¬ 
mately 50 miles north from the Adriatic. The river, an almost 
north and south line from mountains to sea, has in successive periods 
of the world’s history been a line of demarcation between fiercely 
contending political dynasties. 

Its region has been under Roman and Lombard, Carolingian, 
Venetian, and Germanic domination. One year before the day whose 
events we here record, an important conflict had just been completed, 
for German legions swept proudly over the river in pursuit of the 
demoralized and routed Italian forces, thus bringing anxiety and 
chagrin to the Allied and United States Governments as it became 
known the defeat of Caporetto was now a humiliating military dis¬ 
aster. “What part will the Tagliamento play in the fight ahead?” 
That, doubtless, was a momentous question to the contending armies 
and the world on the morning of November 3, 1918. 

The prevailing notion was that the armies of the Central Powers 
would here put up a stubborn resistance. With this idea in mind the 
332nd scouts and advance guard made up of Co. “D” men under Lt. 
Whinnery had advanced. 

****** 

The river at the Ponte Della Delizia is approximately three quar¬ 
ters of a mile from dike to dike; its bed, almost dry at this time, was 
an irregular stretch of sand ridges and gravel veins broken only by an 
occasional aquatic bush. 

Lts. Whinnery and Alston, with eight men, went forward to re- 
connoiter the enemy’s position, while Sgts. Daily and Bell approached 
the bridgehead, and, with the aid of glasses, observed the enemy in 
great numbers on the opposite bank. A group of Austrians attempting 
escape over the river banks surrendered. 

The enemy could be seen establishing outposts in the river bed 
and preparing machine guns for action, while many sought conceal¬ 
ment. Lt. Whinnery observed the enemy to be displaying white 
flags while apparently preparing for action. Not knowing what 
trick the Austrians had devised, Lt. Whinnery established the Third 
Platoon under Lt. Alston on the right flank of the bridgehead, and 
the Fourth Platoon under Sgt. Vawter on the left, that the enemy’s 


purpose might be learned. The second began descending to the river 
bed on the destroyed spans of the bridge, along with a unit of Italians 
from the Intelligence Section of the 31st Army. The Austrians ob¬ 
served all that was taking place. 

Lt. Whinnery sent Sgts. Bell, Farnsworth, and College, and Cpls. 
Rezac and Murphy, to act on their own initiative. These patrols 
proceeded up and across the river bed to a sand bar covered with water 
shrubbery, where evidently there were a number of Austrian outposts 
and machine gun nests. Relief and support stations were observed 
on the Austrian side of the island. Enemy soldiers fled from the latter 
and fire was opened by the patrol. The enemy, taken by surprise in 
this flank attack, were either killed or taken prisoners. This party, 
fearing they might be cut off from retirement, made their way by the 
flank, under a screen of river vegetation and the protection of hollows 
in the river bed, to the place from which they had come. 

The Third and Fourth Platoons, with fixed bayonets, deployed at 
the left (the north) side of the bridge. Sgt. Bell took charge of the 
Second Platoon and advanced it on the right of the bridge in line with 
the Third and Fourth Platoons, advancing in waves over the bed of 
the river. 

A destroyed railroad bridge lay south of Ponte della Delizia about 
300-400 yards. Machine gun fire opened on the Second Platoon from 
the east end of the bridge and the men sought safety by hugging the 
gravel in the protection of a small sand bar. The fire fell a little short 
of its mark, and when it ceased after a minute, the advance continued 
till the three platoons deployed in plain view of the enemy parapets 
and front lines along which white flags continued waving in several 
places, to the complete surprise and wonderment of the men of Co. 
“D.” 

The American forces were now in a perilous position. They lay 
deployed on the barren river within easy range of the enemy who held 
a wholly unobstructed view of the entire manoeuver, and who might 
easily have killed or captured every man in the three platoons by a 
concentrated fire from the well-fortified parapet now only a few 
hundred yards away. Events took a strange turn. 

Waving a white flag, an Austrian major leaped from the enemy 
dike and quickly advanced toward the American lines. He was fol¬ 
lowed by more officers. Coming forward under a flag of truce, they 
offered to converse with the Americans and Capt. Maroni. 

In the parley that followed the Austrians told that on the pre¬ 
ceding night they had received orders declaring that an armistice 
would take effect at midnight—the 2nd—that they should maintain 
their present position at all hazards and hold the right bank of the 
Tagliamento while the Allied soldiers would not advance beyond the 
left—the west. They presented a telegram as evidence that these 
orders were actually issued, adding at the same time that they—the 






































































































































Austrians—would use force if the Americans advanced further. To 
strengthen their claims they asserted they would not have destroyed 
the bridge if the telegram concerning the armistice had come one hour 
earlier. 

The Austrian commander inquired concerning the size of the 
American forces in Italy, admitting as he did so, the Austrian belief 
that the number was upwards of half a million. His query met no 
response. The marches at Treviso had gotten undreamed-of results! 
Finally, Capt. Maroni arrived at the following agreement with the 
Austrians: 

Each side would place Cossack and outpost positions in the river; 
the Americans and Italians to retire to the left bank all troops except 
the outposts, the Austrians in like manner to withdraw to the right 
bank, neither side to commit a hostile act, but each to await word con¬ 
cerning the armistice. 

An agreement more favorable to the Americans could not have 
been entered into, for the main body was far to the rear, and with 
neither artillery support or reserves at hand these mere handfuls 
of men could easily have been hacked to pieces by Austrian fire. 

A Cossack post established in the river bed was held by a squad 
from the Third Platoon, the rest of that platoon withdrew three to 
four hundred yards to establish a line of outposts. The Second and 
Fourth Platoons withdrew to bivouac on the left bank, and to forage 
for food. They found a little “polenta” (boiled Italian corn meal) 
and some ears of hard corn. The weather was wet and cold and there 
was considerable suffering, since in the forced marches of the pre¬ 
ceding days the men had thrown away their equipment. 

At 5:30 p. m., the Second Platoon took up Cossack and outpost 
duty, relieving the Third which did not return to the left bank, but 
as a precautionary measure, bivouacked under the protection of the 
intact piers of the burning bridge. 

Night fell. Tongues of flame lit up the whole region. 

Unmistakable sounds indicated an enemy movement. This ob¬ 
servation was reported to Lt. Whinnery at 9:30 p. m. Till this time 
everything was quiet. The enemy began to be nervous. 

Star shells commenced to shoot; flares lit up every nook and 
cranny of the river bed. The men clung closer to the earth, while 
the enemy’s activity showed his ever-increasing nervousness. At 
11:30 a light rain began to fall, a cold fog settled, while the rain and 
cold chilled the men to their very marrow. That the Americans 
might suffer no surprise, patrols were kept reaching out all the time. 

At 11:00 p. m. the Austrian outposts had retired, enemy vigilance 
redoubled. Flares and star shells kept no man’s land flashing bright. 

At midnight a momentous event took place, when “Dad” Butler, 
representing the American Red Cross, arrived in the darkness bearing 
a box of crackers and a packet of Sweet Caporal cigarettes for each 


man. The men received these presents with expressions of deep 
gratitude, for they were hungry; they knew the difficulties and ob¬ 
stacles “Dad” had overcome in getting up from the rear; they kept 
and always will keep for him an admiration and esteem merited only 
by one who hazards himself that he may serve others. 

The night wore on, lighted by the burning timbers of the bridge 
and the flaring signals of a nervous enemy. 

We shall now trace the movements of the main body on the morn¬ 
ing of November 3. 

XV 

The regiment assembled early at Cimpello to march in a general 
northeasterly direction. At 10:30 Fiume was reached, its streets 
filled with rejoicing old men and women, who watched the khaki 
column swing onward in pursuit of the enemy, who, up till a few 
short hours before, had held in debasing oppression these very people. 

Here the regiment turned northward, passed under the Udine- 
Pordenone-Treviso R. R. and at 12:30 p. m. struck the Udine National 
Highway near Cusano. The route now followed this highway east¬ 
ward to Casarsa, where turning northeastward, the first battalion 
arrived at Casamatta-San Lorenzo at 3 :00 p. m. The third battalion 
went beyond San Lorenzo to a position near the river’s edge. Both 
these battalions anticipated immediate action as the regiment was 
now at its objective and upon the enemy. The second battalion 
moved directly on the enemy’s position at the Ponte della Delizia. 
Thus the second and third battalions at the river were backed by 
the first in reserve. 

We shall now describe the scenes and events enacted on the bed 
and east bank of the Tagliamento River on the morning of Novem¬ 
ber 4, 1918. 

XVI 

At 4:00 a. m., the second battalion arrived to reinforce the troops 
at the river and to prepare for an assault. While filtering over the 
wrecked bridge into the river bed a pistol accidentally discharged; 
it was 5:20 a. m. Enemy machine guns opened from along the 
opposite bank; they sprayed the river bed and raked the bridge, 
making the position of the men untenable and perilous. Between 
periods of fire these men advanced what they could, then lay down 
as fire swept about them. 

The Americans sought safety in little hollows and in the protection 
of gravel veins and sandbars. Shells droned and whined overhead, 
while the whir of bullets ricochetting in front of the lines kept every 
man hugging the holes in the ground. Numerous tracer bullets like 
lightning in the air, disclosed to the enemy his aim and the field of 
fire, and, too, revealed to the men their perilous position. The men 
of “D” were now in a position of support of the men of the second 
battalion. 



Battlefield scenes. 1. Bridge, Piave. 2. Dike, Piave. 3. Captured Austrian Howitzers. 4. Ponte Della Dclizia. 5. Piave, 
No Man’s Land. 6. Officer (Austrian) Prisoners. 7. Captured machine gun nest, Tagliamento. 

8. Bridge, San Rocco River. 9. Refugees. 






















The rattle of machine gun fire came up the river. The Italians 
on the right were attacking. Allied artillery opened fire on the enemy, 
directing it over the heads of the men of the second battalion and the 
three platoons of Co. “ D,” now formed in assault waves in the river 
bed. 

At 5:35 a. m. the command came to assault. With a cheer the 
line advanced at double time over the long stretches of sand and gravel 
across the Tagliamento River bed and against the enemy’s fortified 
positions on the opposite bank, with the same fearlessness that made 
the American soldier famous on a dozen fields on the Western Front. 

The impetuous advance was not withstood by the enemy, who, 
after firing a few brief seconds, fled in disorder. The second battalion 
climbed the dikes, and seized the enemy positions .followed in a 
minute by Company “ D ” support platoons under Lt. Karl Whinnery. 
Total American casualties in this strange skirmish were one killed, 
Cpl. Kell, and eight wounded—a list remarkably low, considering the 
military situation during the twenty-four hours just past. 

In the advance the left flank abandoned its natural protection and 
had to be recalled to reform its ranks to comb the vicinity for the 
enemy and any traps he may have left. 

Codroipo, an Italian town of no inconsiderable size, lay eight 
kilometers east from Ponte della Delizia. It was in the direction of 
Codroipo the enemy was fleeing and the task of advancing along the 
Codroipo road to Udine, searching all homes for enemies was given 
to the second and third platoons with orders to scout for the presence 
of the enemy, taking necessary advance party precautions. 

The advance party had covered almost one-half the distance to 
Codroipo when enemy artillery opened fire. The shells burst to the 
right of the party, which continued its advance rapidly, and only 
slowed up when barred by machine gun fire, which forced the men 
to seek safety in ditches at the roadside from where they engaged 
the enemy gunners while American snipers flanked the Austrian 
positions. This movement repeated, warned the gun crews further 
down that maintaining their position meant their destruction. The 
crews one by one relinquished their posts, “double timed” down the 
road, and disappeared into the town ahead. The range was too 
great for the advance party to destroy these fleeting gunners. 

Search disclosed many Austrian sick and wounded, while many 
others feigned illness. One was found in bed with both rifle and 
ammunition. At the railroad crossing on the city’s outskirts, large 
quantities of destroyed rolling stock obstructed the advance. A 
million dollars’ worth of war material here fell to the Americans who 
cautipusly entered the city, searching every foot of territory and 
breaking down the resistance offered by enemy snipers. In a short 
time the town and many prisoners were in possession of Co. “D’s” 
men who halted in the main piazza where a dozen giant howitzers 


had been abandoned by the demoralized Austrians. Sixteen-inch 
shells were scattered about plentifully. 

A tremendous concussion shook the whole city, accompanied by a 
resounding crash. The enemy rear guard had destroyed the bridge 
over the Corno, a small stream 2 kms. east of Codroipo. The 
explosion was taken to signify the enemy was continuing his flight. 

The inhabitants, who were in hiding up to this time, now came 
from their homes and, wild with joy, fell upon the Americans, shout¬ 
ing Viva L’America! Viva L’America! Tears streamed down their 
cheeks. Their voices choked and they laughed little short hysterical 
laughs as one in delirium. The full meaning of their freedom began 
to dawn on them. A new light shone in their faces. With burning 
tears of unrestrained gratitude some fell face downward before the 
American ranks, others knelt on the earth, their hands uplifted in 
prayer, while still others set aside every restraint to shower kisses 
upon and embrace their American liberators. To the astonishment 
of everyone, and the envy of her neighbors, one half-clad old woman 
displayed a small American flag, a treasure kept hidden during more 
than a year of “watchful waiting.” The appearance of the flag 
brought three resounding cheers from the tired and famished Ameri¬ 
cans. Ragged and destitute and hungry, the Italians told frag¬ 
mentary tales of the inhuman treatment given by their Austrian 
despoilers. 

The Austrian forces had either taken or destroyed the inhabitants’ 
chickens, horses, cows and mules; had stolen every article of wearing 
apparel except the rags worn by the Italians; and had poured into the 
gutter all the wine not successfully hidden in the ground. Victory 
and freedom—brought by Allied arms-—were the dearest present 
possessions of these simple peasant folk, and to them, just released 
from the oppressive tyranny of thirteen months’ servitude and trans¬ 
formed in a night from serfs to free men, both victory and liberty 
meant life itself. 

And what we say of Codroipo, could be said of every other city 
and hamlet in the occupied regions of northeastern Italy. But standing 
in contemplation in time of war is not soldierly, no matter how much 
of human interest there is in a scene; however, it had taken only a 
minute to drink in the situations just described. In very little time the 
jaded contingent warily advanced northeastward on the Udine high¬ 
way, the advance guard of the conquering Allied Armies. This group 
was composed of the fourth platoon of “D” Company, under Sgt. 
Vawter, and a platoon of “M” Co., under Sgt. Wagstaff. 

Not knowing where they were going, or why, they pushed rapidly 
on, seven, eight, nine kms., to Villaorba, in an incredibly short time, 
and then came news unexpected and almost too good to be true, 
brought by Lt. Col. Everson, who had ridden up on horseback,— 
Austria had agreed to the hard terms of armistice fixed by the Allies. 



Battlefield Scenes, 






By their rapid advance the two platoons established themselves far 
out on the line of advance before 3:00 p. m., when the armistice 
became effective. 

These platoons took up a position on a line from Villaorba on the 
left, to the Udine R. R. on the right, where without packs or any 
except fighting equipment the men bivouacked, using cornstalks for 
their beds. It was a heavy sleep, the kind which comes after com¬ 
plete physical exhaustion. Announcement of the signing of the 
armistice induced no emotion in the men; the desire for rest super¬ 
seded every other inclination on their part and they lay down to sleep. 

XVII. 

San Lorenzo, the little village to which both first and third bat¬ 
talions came in the late afternoon of November 3, is about 5 kms. 
northeastward from the Ponte della Delizia. The third battalion 
continued through San Lorenzo to the river bank. Enemy strag¬ 
glers and rearguards were encountered by some of these units, but not 
in a way to bring on a general engagement. 

“To Arms!” was sounded at 8:30 p. m. Excess baggage was 
hurriedly discarded and preparations were made to advance for bat¬ 
tle. “Fall in!” was given, the men took their places in line and waited 
for the order to advance. Hours passed. The pumping of machine 
guns at the river kept every man in suspense, waiting for the final 
order to go forward—the order which did not come. 

The wounded were brought to First Battalion Headquarters at 
San Lorenzo at daybreak, grim testimony of machine gun action 
during the early morning hours. Very early, both battalions, the 
first and third, were marching to the Ponte della Delizia, where they 
arrived at about noon November 4. Upon reaching the bridge, its 
heaps of burning ruins now smudging the heavens with masses of 
yellow smoke, the columns turned to the left (northward), paralleling 
the river for one km., where the two battalions halted on the Valvasone- 
Ponte della Delizia road. The rolling kitchens came up here and the 
first cooked food was served since November 1. It was decided these 
battalions should stay here that night, so pup tents were pitched and 
the night passed quietly, the men sleeping on the ground. That night 
two platoons of “D” Co. who had done such gallant work at the 
Tagliamento, returned to their battalion from Codroipo, 9 kms. 
away. 

On this night, then, the second battalion with one platoon of 
“D” Co. and one of “M” Co., occupied a line from Villaorba to the 
Treviso-Udine R. R., ten miles east by north from Ponte della Delizia. 
It had captured, (with its auxiliary platoon whose work has been 
described) the important military depot of Codroipo, with vast stores 
of munitions, wagons, and hospital supplies. The other two battalions 
were one km. north from Ponte della Delizia and west of the river. 


News of an armistice passed freely from lip to lip, but in justice 
it must be said little did anyone believe in its truth. However, the 
stop at the Tagliamento appeared significant to everyone, and when 
in the late forenoon, November 5, the first and third battalions broke 
camp and marched back to the stables and lifts at San Lorenzo, it 
was with something of a feeling that the proud old Dual Empire had 
been given a death jab. No creditable news came from the outisde 
world; rumor spun fantastic yarns—some men contemplated being 
home and discharged within a month, while others figured on fighting 
their way to the rear gates of Berlin. 

But the Battle of Vittorio-Veneto was over and won! Yet no 
one knew how decisive had been the victory. 

XVIII. 

Never in the record of world history could the term “a war of 
movement” be more appropriately used than in reference to this 
battle of Vittorio-Veneto, cited by General Pershing the tenth de¬ 
cisive battle of the World War. (Per. G. O. No. 36, G. H. Q., Jan. 3, 
1919.) 

In just six days Allied Armies hurled the enemy from the mountain 
forts into headlong flight and drove him from his strangle-hold along 
the Piave Plains almost to his own border, eighty miles away. Attack¬ 
ing armies advanced with amazing rapidity in pursuit of the enemy; 
the 332nd, in three days, advanced more than forty miles from the 
Piave to the Tagliamento. 

If the war was one of movement, the state of armistice following 
was, by inference, a peace of movement, and we shall tell in a few 
words the wanderings of the 332nd in the days that followed. 

Falling in “at San Lorenzo on the morning of November 6, the 
two battalions stationed there began a march which took them to the 
Ponte della Delizia over the same route as on the morning of Novem¬ 
ber 4. On the way a group of Austrian officers was met under charge 
of 332nd men. These captives had officered an Austrian division which, 
in accordance with the armistice conditions, had surrendered to the 
332nd Infantry. The number surrendered was quite officially given as 
11,000. A group of ten “D” men under Lt. Whinnery went back to 
Pordenonne with a number of those prisoners. 

Late that afternoon the two battalions crossed the Tagliamento 
and moved east to Codroipo where the second battalion joined the 
first and third. When near Codroipo the regiment ate a small allow¬ 
ance of iron rations. Only a few minutes were given for eating. In 
the darkness the march resumed with only the north star to give an 
inkling as to what direction the march was taking. 

The general course was east. The men were weary and none too 
strong from the effects of previous days; nevertheless, a tone of 



Battlefield Scenes, 












cheerfulness hung over the marching column. In the shadows of 
night outlines of human figures could be seen numerously scattered 
along the edge of the road. 

Hours dragged on—so did the ranks of the 332nd. Nine o’clock, 
ten o’clock, eleven o’clock came. Then midnight. The column 
seemed to have no directing head, or if there was one, efforts were 
being.made to find the longest route to nowhere. There could be no 
question about the success of these efforts. 

One o’clock, two o’clock came, and the march continued, zig¬ 
zagging east, north, then south, only to start east again. There were 
whispered speculations that the destination was Udine, but inquiry 
of deshabille Italians, who peered open-mouthed and wide-eyed from 
doors and windows of cheerless stone huts, as the column staggered 
on, revealed that the advance did not bring the regiment closer to 
Udine, but, on the other hand, if the word of the inhabitants might be 
taken for truth^ each hamlet was further from Udine than any of its 
predecessors. 

At 4:00 a. m., November 7, the regiment was marched into a corn¬ 
field in a low damp region where the men were told they would “spend 
the night.” The majority, without undoing their packs, lay down in 
the soft mud and ooze of the cornfield, too tired to heed either the 
chill damp of the autumn air, or the wet earth that soon soaked every¬ 
thing in contact with it. 

The march just completed was 43 kms. (27 miles), and the corn¬ 
field was close to Pozzuolo, a village 10 kms. from Udine, and 20° 
east from south of the latter place. 

Stiff from the night damp, their uniforms muddy and wet, the 
troops arose early to be served a mess kit full of boiled hard tack with 
a little beef mixed in. It was not a quantity nearly sufficient to 
gratify appetites nor to furnish a surplus of nutrition; however, it 
was warm and this quality made it appreciated. 

By 9:00 a. m. the lines were moving, wending their way, not by 
main routes, but by unfrequented paths and by-roads, till finally the 
column emerged on the Palma Nova-Udine Highway. The route 
followed this highw r ay northward till within 6 kms. of Udine, when the 
regiment turned east, crossing through fields, till Lovaria was reached. 
On this lap of the way cases of complete exhaustion and weakness 
became numerous, a result of long marches under heavy packs, with 
insufficient food. Often men fell down and, unable to arise, awaited 
the haphazard service of an overtaxed ambulance system. The hos¬ 
pitals at Udine became an asylum for many men of the 332nd. 

Reaching Lovaria, the troops found the town beautifully decorated 
with the Italian National Emblem; its inhabitants were happy and 
jubilant over their final release from Austrian misrule. Austrian troops 
had left all available quarters in such a filthy and unsanitary condition 


that the American troops sought the open fields back of the town 
where, spreading their equipment on the earth, they lay down in a 
cold rain to sleep and rest. 

The next day, following unfrequented roads much of the time, the 
column emerged on the bed of the Torre which it crossed, passed 
over the Udine Gorizia-Trieste Railroad, reached and passed Buttrio, 
and arrived at the Natisane River. Passing over the narrow foot¬ 
bridge in single file, the regiment crossed the deep valley of the last- 
named stream, climbed the hill beyond, and passed into a large open 
sod field on a broad tableland south of Ipplis, a village 18 kms. east 
from Udine and 5 kms. from the then “Austrian border.” An in¬ 
spiring panorama of Carnic Alps lay before the troops. From here 
they sighted giant peaks to the west, north, and east; the summit of 
Chiampon (5500 ft.), crested by clouds, stood at the north; Nero 
(7000) ft.) could be seen snow-crowned tow r ard the northeast across 
the valley of the Isonzo and beyond the fateful, historic battlefield 
of Caporetto, where occurred the shameful rout of Italy’s proud army 
just one year previous. These giant and majestic crags now looked 
down on a reversal of war’s varying fortunes; they now saw American 
troops pitch camp and set up a city of “pup tents” in the contested 
region of southeast Friuli. 

Throughout the period of bivouac here, which was from November 
8 to November 12, food came up in only very meager quantities on 
account of the difficulties of transportation in the region the troops 
had traversed. Soldiers searching for food could procure very little; 
the Y. M. C. A. lines, always long, might be termed bread lines. The 
little “polenta” secured from natives was treasured by every man 
and carefully hidden in his equipment as ten talents of gold might be. 
Cleanliness was not a fundamental quality of a treasure of polenta. 
On November 8, the group of men who had gone to Pordenone with 
Austrian prisoners rejoined the company. 

A brief drill schedule was carried out each day, and on November 
10, under orders the men bathed in the icy mountain waters of the 
Natisane. 

No news came from the outside world except vague unworthy 
rumors. No one knew for certain the turn events were taking on 
the Western Front. These were days of suspense and expectancy for 
everybody. Suddenly news came that the 332nd would penetrate the 
Alps and march to Innsbruck, Austria, a plan that never became real. 

On November 12, the second battalion received orders to move to 
Cattaro, Dalmatia, via Venice; the order was executed at 8:00 a. m., 
the men being transferred in the small but fast Italian Army trucks. 
The same day, leaving at 1:00 p. m., the first and third battalions 
proceeded south and east to the Austrian border line which they 
crossed on the main highway to Cormons, Austria, via Brozzano. 
That night the regiment bivouacked on the outskirts of Cormons 



^HY OOnT THEY /eno 

\jj a 0'L.L FOR THE 
AiR WE OREATHE ? 

Well, aityhow, l Hao 
MY MONEY/ WORTH 1 J ^ 



CU/TOZA AFTERMAT.- 
































at the base of a mountain foothill. The evening of November 13, the 
column formed to march through Cormons, to a group of barracks 
recently occupied by German and Austrian soldiers, and still bearing 
every indication of recent occupation. These billets were unclean, 
consequently a long period of policing followed. Here food was 
scarcer than at any other time; cornmeal was the chief article of diet, 
and was served three times a day. Many took sick while here and 
were removed to the hospital. 

The region surrounding was striking. Foothills of the Carnic 
Alps gradually ascended on the north, dotted by many Austrian 
villages almost indiscernible against the glistening white of the 
mountain side. On the south, Mt. Medea, 2 kms. away, well trenched 
and fortified by pill boxes and barbed wire, rose straight from the 
plain. From its summit, to which many 332nd men climbed, a superb 
view could be had of Gradisca and the Adriatic to the south; of the 
Isonzo River Valley and Gorizia to the east; of Cormons and the 
Carnic Alps to the north—all in Austria, while far to the east spread 
out mile upon mile of Italian soil spotted with “redeemed” Italian 
villages. A high foothill crested by ruins of an ancient castle towered 
over Cormons, almost 900 feet high. 

On Sunday afternoon, Nov. 17, a wind swept down from the 
mountains and brought with it the first snow of the year. The next 
few days passed with light drill schedules and frequent inspections 
along with games and hikes. At all times the chief topic of thought 
and conversation was, “When are we going home?” Verification 
had recently come in that Germany had bowed to the will of the 
Allies and had signed the humiliating conditions of armistice which 
made a renewal of hostilities impossible. 

On November 18, the third battalion was ordered to entrain for 
Fiume via Trieste. A few days later eagerly awaited orders directed 
the return of the First Battalion to Treviso—afoot, the march to 
begin November 24. 

XIX 

The morning of Sunday, November 24, saw every man astir early, 
his light pack made ready for the commencement of the day’s march, 
the beginning of the first stage of the long journey home. The morn¬ 
ing dawned bright; an almost cloudless sky and a bracing air imparted 
vigor to every man. Everything was in readiness long before 7:30 
o’clock when the march began. Everyone was in splendid spirits. 

The march proceeded through Borgnano, thence skirting the north 
side of Mt. Medea (Alt. 415 ft), from whose summit one can look on 
the Adriatic, toward Trieste, and the south. The column was leaving 
the foot hills of the Julian Alps, whose sides, now covered with snow, 
glistened brightly to the rear and right flank. 

When the vanguard of the line reached and attempted to cross 
the Judrio it was forced to halt. The concrete bridge at this point 


lay a mass of ruins. The passage was quickly made on the river 
bed, now almost dry, and the ranks soon reformed on the opposite 
side to resume the march through Chiopris. At Chiopris the line 
skirted the pre-war boundary between Italy and Austria. Here the 
line passed under a magnificent arch of triumph recently erected to 
welcome the conquering Italian Army. The line of march bent to 
the southeast here and continued to Latisana, where it crossed the 
Torre. From the crossing it was a short distance to the international 
boundary marked by the Udine-Gradisca highway which the column 
crossed at almost exactly 11:00 a. m. One hour further the ancient 
and famous embattlements of Palmanova came into view; the classic 
lines and graceful curves of the earthworks brought forth many ex¬ 
pressions of admiration and surprise. After rounding a stately curve 
the marching line came to the great mote and defending wall of the 
city. 

Within the walls, the city was a mass of ruins evidently the result 
of artillery fire. The line of march passed around the left of the 
piazza where Hun destruction had defaced magnificent monuments; 
the front of the cathedral leaned menacingly. In Palmanova, as in 
every town, the remaining inhabitants, chiefly old men and women, 
lined both sides of the route. 

Advancing from the city, the column halted for noon mess at the 
junction of two main roads; the right ran to Codroipo; the left led to 
San Giorgio at which place the battalion arrived at the close of the 
afternoon’s march. The distance covered was about 29 kms. (App. 
18 miles). Many other marches had been equally as long, and even 
longer, and under more difficult conditions, but rations were of the 
most meager quantity, and no food was available in that wretched 
territory. The same lack of food prevailed throughout the remainder 
of the march resulting in a state of lowered vitality in every man. 

Rain began to fall soon after the arrival at San Giorgio and con¬ 
tinued intermittently throughout the night. The billets alloted to 
the troops had been till recently occupied by the enemy. The men 
ate mess in the crowded and unsanitary yard in the rear of the billets 
and soon afterward lay down on musty straw-covered floors in small 
defaced rooms of what possibly in times past had been an “Albergo” 
or Italian lodging house—all somewhat tired, but glad that the first 
lap was over. 

By candle light they rolled packs and ate corn meal on Monday 
morning the 25th. At daylight ranks were formed in a light fall of 
rain mixed with a litle snow, and the march began. Snow lay on the 
ground and the air was damp, but bracing. It was a typical American 
morning, but one rare in Italy. 

Over mud soaked roads the battalion trudged to the Tagliamento 
and found its bed almost dry. It was reached and crossed at 12:15 



1. Italian women filling in trenches. 2. Barracks, near Cormons, Austria. 3. Our Allies. 4. Duds. 5. A captive German. 
6. American soldiers captured on Western Front. Made way from German prison camps, 
through Austria to 332nd. 7. Steel pill box, top Mt. Medea. 







p. m. Without stop for mess the march was continued till 3:00 p. m., 
when Fossalta was reached. The distance covered was 32 kms. 
(App. 20 miles). 

Many men of the company had been brought forward in trucks 
and with rations almost gone, and many men ill, the troops remained 
here all the following day, Tuesday, the 26th. All those who were 
able to go were sent out on wood searching parties. The rest made 
up self-organized “polenta” parties. The people everywhere were in 
deep distress. Many wretched widows and mothers were found 
baking their last and only morsel of corn meal in antique kitchen 
utensils over open fires. 

Many men here fell victims to disease and were sent to the hospitals. 
At Fossalta there was little of interest except the old church tower from 
whose top could be secured a splendid view of the great stretches of the 
Venetian lowlands clear to the Adriatic. 

The company ranks depleted greatly by the removal of the sick 
and the poorly shod, the march continued from Fossalta on the 
morning of the 27th. It was a long day’s hike, but made without 
interuption, under ideal conditions of weather, till darkness. The 
column came to an abrupt halt at the edge of Oderzo. The traffic 
crossing the pontoon bridge over the Monticane became blocked 
and the river was crossed with some little confusion after a short 
delay. The line was soon feeling its way through the congested and 
dark streets of Oderzo. Passing the town, billets were found in a 
large silk factory. Every man was glad to contemplate that the next 
day would see him back at Treviso where at least lay the prospect of 
something to eat. The distance covered this day was 33 kms. (App. 
21 miles). 

By daylight, Thanksgiving Day, every man was anxious to start. 
By 9:30 a. m. the war devasted region of the Piave was reached. 
The roadsides soon became masses of shell holes, the work of the 
Italian artillery. The region from here on was an area of indes¬ 
cribable destruction. The road was freshly filled in after the rain of 
steel that had been showered upon it; helmets, gas masks, clothing, 
belts, machine gun belts, unused and used, were scattered promis- 
cously over the ground ; limitless barbed wire entanglements stretched 
everywhere; the earth was torn and pitted as though some mighty 
furies had tried to transform the region to a hopeless waste. The 
little dugouts and thatched (camouflaged) posts were deserted; 
every “cassa” in the region was now a mass of debris, leveled to the 
earth. It was a gloomy region and imbued everyone with a feeling 
of kindred desolation. 

The Ponte de Piave was impassable. The march turned south, 
paralleling the Piave, and after a great detour, crossed the river on 
pontoons. A long march northward was now necessary to offset the 
south course on the east bank. It was almost 1:00 p. m. when company 


“D” stopped at the side of a little Italian home to have Thanks¬ 
giving dinner, not just in harmony with that annual dinner in pre¬ 
vious years, but one that shall doubtless be recounted as the most 
memorable of all. 


THE MENU 
Slum 

CONSISTING OF 

Corn Beef, Hard Tack, and Corn Meal 
O. D. Coffee 


Thanks to the Supply Co. the trucks began relaying the jaded 
soldiers into Treviso, and by 6:00 p. m. every man was back. Those 
who completed the march did on this last lap at least 36 kms. (App. 
22 p 2 miles). 

The regiment had made harder hikes, with much heavier packs 
than those made on the march from Cormons to Treviso, but the lack 
of food aggravated the difficulties so that each day’s march was a 
tremendous drain on the physical powers of every man; nevertheless, 
hard and gruelling as was the return, there was not a single man, who, 
feeling that this was the beginning of the end of his stay in Europe, 
was not perfectly willing to undertake and carry through the effort. 

XX 

If, suddenly, in the midst of their wanderings, the Promised Land 
could have been reached by the Children of Israel, the hearts of the 
people could have been no happier than were the 332nd men who re¬ 
turned to Treviso. The memory of the barren war region, of its 
poverty stricken and destitute inhabitants, and the complete spirit 
of desolation pervading the war brought a sense of relief, now that it 
was a memory. 

True, the “Ospedale” at Dosson, turned now into American 
Barracks, was by no means an ultra comfortable place. There were 
few windows left, iron gratings covered them. There was no heat, 
for scarcely enough wood could be procured to supply the kitchens. 
Stone floors and stone walls radiate little warmth in December and 
January, even in Sunny Italy, especially when the fountain in the 
court yard is ice covered. From the fountain bowl the men drew 
ice water to wash and shave. 

The walk to Treviso, tw r o miles north, led over a splendid macadam 
highway built by Napoleon III. 



Venice. 1. Pigeons, St. Mark’s Square. 2. Gaol. 3. Ducal Palace. 4. Square and St. Mark’s. 5. Bridge of Sighs. 6. Rialto. 

7. Gondola. 8. The Mole. 9. The Golden Palace. 

















Treviso, while now rising from the debris of war, was no less 
military than it was prior to October 26, when Austrian howitzers 
replying to the withering Allied barrage reached the heart of the 
city. Italian soldiers, strangely passive in their little field gray 
mantles roamed up and down the streets in crowds or entered the 
cafes to sip coffee or to talk animatedly over their wine. Cafes sprang 
up as though by magic. Civilians came in rather rapidly, the night 
trains, especially, poured in their quota of refugees. Fruit markets 
rapidly expanded; “white lights” appeared at night, and slowly but 
surely the dark uncanny feeling of portending evil that before 
was in the very air now slowly gave way to an atmosphere of sound 
recovery. True, all the wares of the shops were in the windows, 
but somehow that was better than before October 26. At least the 
street view was better with the new window decorations of tawdry 
and strangely miscellaneous wares. 

Afternoon and night,the men of the first batalion came to Treviso. 
They “hung out” at the “Y,” the cafes, or visited the British com¬ 
missary where American soldiers always received a word of welcome 
from the authorities, and the expression from the “Tommies” of a 
warm spirit of comradship. For the British soldiers in Italy, the 
332nd men have only the warmest personal regards and the strongest 
admiration. 

However, a few white lights, a multitude of dingy cafes, and the 
babbling of foreign citizens cannot gratify the desires of a man who 
“wants to go home.” Hence, it is not to be wondered at that specu¬ 
lation was rife among the men as to when the regiment would return 
to the U. S. In fact, “When are we going home?" became a usual 
greeting. Rumors, equally ridiculous and unfounded, gained wide 
repetition, and led to many humorous cases of sadly discrediting some 
reputations for honesty and integrity. After a long delay the monot¬ 
ony of things was broken somewhat by the granting of passes for 
a day’s stay in Venice. 

Venice! What man didn’t have that name mimeographed in 
mental realms where only dreams abide. 1 he old school geography 
and the teacher—who had dreamed dreams of a Venetian Night and 
had heard (in imagination, of course) the rhythmic echoes of a “Vene¬ 
tian Love Song” as the rippling water fell from the poised paddles 
of a Venetian gondolier—well, both geography and teacher had done 
their part and only a few didn’t care to see Venice. Each day saw a 
few first battalion men in the renowned city. 

They crossed the colossal railroad bridge extending over the back 
lagoon; they passed up the Canale Grande (Grand Canal), celebrated 
in poem and song; they saw the Golden Palace, and the home of 
Byron; their course took them under the famous Rialto Bridge, com¬ 
pleted in 1391, and since made famous by Shakespeare in his “Mer¬ 
chant of Venice.” 


Debarking from the little steamer that carried them from the 
railway station to the Rialto, they soon mingled with that stream of 
humanity which ceaselessly pours into St. Mark’s Square at the 
Clock Tower and Old Porticoes, near the Little Lions. They mar¬ 
velled at the unparalleled richness of material and decorations of 
St. Mark’s Cathedral, unique among the buildings of the world for 
its mixture of Byzantine and Lombard styles; they ambled around 
the court, mounted the Golden Staircase, and revelled in the beauties 
of the Gothic richness of the Doge’s Palace; they explored the mys¬ 
teries of the Bridge of Sighs over which many have gone, but few have 
returned. 

These small groups in khaki wandered over and along the Mole, 
where they got an outside view of The Bridge of Sighs, or turned to 
the right around the King’s Palace and Gardens. They stood at 
the base of the “Campanile”; they playfully fed the revered pigeons 
that inhabit the sequestered nooks among the architecture above; 
they stood before the great clock admiring its “Grecian Marble,” 
its gilded lion with blue background, and the two colossal Moors 
that beat the hours on the bell. Even the “Lido,” the outer isle of 
the city, where the Adriatic restlessly piles up three miles of sand 
every thousand years, could not escape the wanderlust of these 
American doughboys. 

But Venice with all its lauded magnificence could not build in the 
minds and hearts of these men a bulwark of interest strong enough to 
resist the daily and hourly, the instinctive and irresistible appeal of 
home and country and native land. 

The more they saw of Europe, the more they wanted to see 
America, and when at night they returned from Venice to the Dosson 
Barracks (Treviso), it was to think and dream, not of the famed 
glories of a fallen empire, but, now that the war was over, to dream 
of home and a people whose greatness does not rest alone in the deeds 
of its ancestors, but in the achievements of today and the hope of a 
better morrow. 

The days, each filled with the ruling passion of a desire to return 
home, passed uneventfully, and then with almost startling sudden¬ 
ness, after the failure of many rumors to get results, an order came 
for the battalion to be assembled at Genoa prior to embarkation for 
America. Movement from Treviso began on February 12, and con¬ 
tinued on the 13th; the usual box car transportation was supplied 
by the Italian Government. 


XXI 

Genoa, at the head of the Gulf of Genoa, is the chief port and 
commercial town of Italy, the seat of an archbishop and a university. 
The city, since it climbs the lower hills of the Ligurean Alps, makes 
an effective display of its architectural magnificence. It stretches 


maygge Thi/ 



Life/ /upreme momenta 
the LION op /t marc 



My FU//T AJFFER 
/tripe 1 Ax long 
month/ WITHOUT 
ICE CREAM-OH 
WHAT A TALE YUH 
COULD TELL'.I 



Life/ Jupreme Moment/ 

The Fir/t Over-/ea /tripe 























inland over hill and dale to the great fortress of Sperone, the Spur on 
the summit of Monte Peraldo, at a height of 1650 ft. It has acquired 
the title of “The Superb.” 

Many magnificent 16th century palaces grace the city and its 
environs; but chief among its attractions are the old churches which 
invite the attention of the traveler. 

S. Maria de Castello, an 11th century structure, is noted for its 
antique columns and capitals. S. Donato has its remains of 10th 
century building. In S. Stefano is the famous painting by Giulio 
Romano, “The Martyrdom of St. Stephen,” carried away by Napo¬ 
leon in 1811, and restored in 1815. According to extant manuscripts, 
the small cathedral of San Lorenzo was metropolitan in 987, when 
the city’s limits did not extend so far east and west as they do now. 
Within can be found an octagonal bowl, the Sacro Catino, brought 
from Caesarea in 1101, which corresponds to descriptions of the 
Holy Grail, but which, when broken in Paris, after being carried there 
by Napoleon, was found to be made of ancient glass. 

If one is to judge by the warmth of the reception which met the 
incoming 332nd men upon their arrival in this city of remarkable 
monuments and churches, the populace is not extremely conserva¬ 
tive. A tremendously enthusiastic people, massed in dense crowds, 
was on hand to welcome the incoming troops. Cheer upon cheer 
greeted the troops and flowers were thrown to them from the crowds 
on all sides, whose presence there affirmed their appreciation of what 
this one regiment had done for Italian aspirations. This reception 
was only surpassed by the one at Milan upon the first arrival of the 
332nd in Italy. The route, gaily bedecked with Allied flags, led 
directly to the Hotel Miramare which commands a splendid pano¬ 
rama of the entire city. Fresh bed sacks were furnished the men, 
and although all fixtures and furniture were removed, the majestic 
Miramare, the product of a Swiss architect, was strangely in contrast 
with previous billets occupied by 332nd troops since their arrival in 
Europe. 

In the days that followed, careful scrutiny was made of every boat 
that entered the harbor as to its type, its port of clearance, its desti¬ 
nation, and the date of its intended departure. Of nearly every boat 
that entered the harbor it was said she came purposely to get the 
332nd and her destination was New York. Many times many hearts 
sank as a ship on which had been built the hopes of many for a speedy 
return home, cleared port and sank on the horizon. Meanwhile, 
everybody found much of interest in the city. 

Enroute from the Miramare to the heart of Genoa, the troops 
passed the “Stazione Principe” and the statue of Christopher Colum¬ 
bus, at the base of which lay the wreath placed by President Wilson on 
his recent trip to Genoa; they passed the “Kings Palace,” the “Uni¬ 
versity,” and the “Church of the Annunciation.” About the city 


were to be found: the home of Christopher Columbus, before which 
doughboys stood with a sense of profound respect; the public park, 
with its picturesque waterfall; the “New Bourse,” rich and elaborate 
in decoration; and above all, the “Cemetery,” abounding in notable 
pieces of sculpture, so numerous that a traveler should spend many 
days to be able to comprehend its full meaning. 

The regimental insignia made at Milan were now furnished the 
regiment (see cover design). We here record a short legendary- 
account of the history of this attractive design, “The Lion of St. 
Mark.” 

St. Mark, who is known as “The Historian of the Resurrection,” 
is the patron saint of Venice, and the “Lion of St. Mark” is his sym¬ 
bol. It is an appropriate symbol, since people in the Middle Ages 
believed the cub of a lioness was always born dead and after three 
days the lioness infused breath into the cub. This awakening typified 
the Resurrection. Since the angels, who are messengers of heaven, 
are represented as having wings, the lion is winged and represents 
one who bears good tidings. St. Mark’s body w-as brought from 
Alexandria, Egypt, about 828 A.D. 

It was altogether fitting that the 332nd Infantry, whose field of 
military operations was almost entirely in the Province of Venezia 
(Venice), should adopt this symbol as its official regimental insignia. 

The second battalion, which had gone to Cattaro, Dalmatia, on 
November 12, entered the harbor after a trip around Southern Italy. 
The battalion is justly credited with having endured more hardships 
than any other in the 332nd. On or about March 9, a War Depart¬ 
ment investigation as to the food, clothing, and treatment of the men 
was concluded. On March 14, a quarantine was placed upon the 
camp, daily inspections were given both physical and equipment, and 
preparation made for going home. After 5 days confinement to 
billets the order to move was rescinded by inspecting officers from 
G. H. Q.; the quarantine was lifted and the men once more passed 
along the city’s streets. As full preparations for sailing had been 
made, the restraints of strict quarantine endured for many days, and 
many obnoxious inspections undergone, it was not a crime that the 
men felt no little degree of bitterness at the recall order. 

A few small contingents had been allowed forloughs to Mentone, 
near Nice and Monaca, while a few other groups were sent to Rome; 
how-ever, not over ten per cent were ever privileged to secure leave. 
Like most army orders come, the final order suddenly came to move 
on March 29. On March 28, though, the Canopic sailed with the 
second battalion aboard. Official departure took place March 29. 

An unspotted sky of deepest blue, as only Italy and the Mediter¬ 
ranean know, bade “Bon Voyage” to the American columns as they 
marched behind bands and flying colors to the wharf. Dense crowds 



Genoa. 1. An ancient doge. 2. Miramare. 3. Garibaldi. 4. Columbus. 5. Cemetery. 6. Columbus’ birthplace. 7. Station. 

On reception American troops. 9. Monument to Liberty. 

















HAM AMO E 665 , WITH 

FRENCH FRIED. A COLD 

Bottle of "blue Ribbon, 
4C0P o' coffee And a 
Piece o'apple pie, a la 
moof 


A/ MA TH0U6HT 
IT WA/ LIKE . 


VA $ENF, JiSNORE 
AMERICANO ! 




PRE//-riOTlCE 
THE 332od Infantry arrived 
here from the front-and 
/^RE 0EIN5 ENTERTAINEO AT THE 

Hotel Miramare . 

























































































Homeward. 1. “Goodbye, Miramare.” 2. "Farewell, Genoa.” 3. Crowds on pier. 4. Castle of Albert. 5. From the mast. 

6. Ferryboat, N. Y. 7. Gibraltar. 8. Statue of Liberty. 








lined the decorated streets to say farewell to these men who had been 
the sole combatant torces to represent America in the struggle in 
Italy. 

It may have been idle curiosity that impelled throngs of Italians 
to stand alongside the Duca d’Aosta for three hours. But could it 
have been curiosity that held them, } r et waving their goodbyes, long 
after the transport had passed from the harbor, out into the gulf, and 
headed toward Gibraltar? Or could these people have come to love 
and admire the men who had been sent to help them in their fight 
against an historic foe—a foe whom they hated with a flaming pas¬ 
sion, as only a Latin can hate? 

As the men kept watch astern, the Ligurean Alps rose higher to 
blot out the city which now became a narrow fringe at the base of the 
foothills. Even the water came up to meet the mountain crest 
and to conspire with it to blot Genoa from sight. Snow lay in scat¬ 
tered drifts on the crests to the right. Italy lay behind; America, 
before. The contemplation gave a thrill of mixed sorrow and joy. 
But in the oft-quoted, oft-repeated words of Scott, 

Breathes there a man with soul so dead, 

Who never to himself hath said, 

This is my own, my native land! 

Whose heart hath ne’er within him burned, 

As home his footsteps he hath turned 
From wandering on a foreign strand. 

The crescent outline of Genoa had vanished! 


XXII 

There needs but little to be said of the return voyage. Doubtless 
it was no different from that of the two million Americans in France. 
The conditions were crowded. Each man had excess baggage. In¬ 
spection followed inspection. Food was poor in quality, served in 
squalid conditions, reeking with nauseating odors, while the men 
piled in heaps on a filthy floor to eat the poorly prepared and un¬ 
appetizing mess. Each man wore blue overalls to protect his clothes 
from the surrounding filth. Briefly we record a generality of each 
day of the trip. 

March 29, Sailing rough throughout night. Everybody sick. 

March 30, Sailing a little rough. Everybody quiet. Passing dis¬ 
tant snow-capped Pyrenees in late afternoon. Skirting Spain. 

March 31, Sailing better. Iviza, southerly island of Balearic 
group sighted afternoon. 

April 1, Sighted the African Coast, the Morocco City, Ceuta, 
and finally Gibraltar, in mid-forenoon. Admired and guessed at the 
possible mysteries of Gibraltar. Canopic is in harbor. 

April 2, At Gibraltar. Prepared to coal. 


April 3, Went ashore. Interesting place, particularly the gaunt, 
yet picturesque Moroccans bearing their produce to Gibraltar’s 
markets. Watched coal passers. 

April 4, Left Gibraltar at 8:00 a. m. Leaving Canopic. Passed 
in sight of Tangiers. 

April 5, Usual sea day. Quiet. 

April 6, Same. 

April 7, Passed Azores. 

April 8, A usual day of drill, inspections and nothing to do. 

April 9, Storm all day. Worse at night. No one allowed on deck. 

April 10, Passed merchant ship—rolling. We are, too. 

April 11, A usual day. Uneventful. 

April 12, Storm and fcg. Entering Gulf Stream. 

April 13. Today will be the day! Arrived in New York Harbor 
at sunset. Night falling as anchor is dropped at Quarantine. Lay 
in harbor all night. 

April 14, Moved from anchorage early to start trip up harbor. 
Met by Mayor’s Committee of Welcome aboard police boat “ Patrol.” 
Whistles on harbor craft almost burst their metal tongues as they 
shrieked greetings. Passengers waved their welcome from ferry 
boats. Passed Statue of Liberty. Band aboard Mayor's boat struck 
up “Home Sweet Home.” A hushed silence fell on board the Due 
d’Aosta. 

As the meaningful strains fell cn the water, the men’s features 
became almost immobile, their heartstrings stirred by a million con¬ 
flicting surges of emotion. With a tremendous effort they struggled 
for self-mastery; eyes filled with tears of irrepressible joy; breasts 
heaved and fell under the impulse of the emotional struggle within; 
heads turned aside to hide the tears that trickled down their bronzed 
cheeks. 

This was their country, their people; here were their friends, their 
loved ones. This was the hour they had looked forward to for 
months; this, judging from their impressions of other countries, is 
the best on earth, and this—this is “Home, Sweet Home”—at last! 


Americans Who Helped Turn War Tide in Italy Parade 
Fifth Avenue to Cheers of Vast Throng 


332d Regiment Reviewed by Officials of New York and Other Cities 


From New York Herald , Tuesday, April 22, 1919 

Passing through a wildly enthusiastic lane of more than 300,000 
persons, the 332d Infantry, which served with the gallant Italian 
armies along the Piave, yesterday marched up Fifth avenue. The 




c 


\ NEVER WANNA EvSN 
/CE A 3ATW-7VJ0 AGAIN 
An' people actually 
DRINK THE JTUPP-- 
AAOOUOH 



MINE MU/TA 
JTARVED TO DEATH 
V-/INCE COMin' ON 
\THU 0OAT 


IF COOTIE/ WA/ 
MONEY - I'D GE A 
PAUPER . I AlNT 
POUND MOREN FORTY] 
|§£|; yiNCE COMiry 
L\'\ AgOARD 


[(5EE.1VHIZZ 

ONLY /IX 
TO OAY! 
























picked 3,600 Pennsylvania and Ohio troops, having combined both 
military and political service in the inspiration offered during Italy’s 
dark days, proved themselves worthy of their peculiar mission by one 
of the most precise and inspiring parade performances ever seen in 
the Avenue of the Allies. 

The throngs which lined the curbs and filled the grand stands 
along the route of march included a vast contingent of Americans of 
Italian extraction, relatives and friends of the soldiers from their home 
States and an enthusiastic quota of New York parade watchers who 
for some reason or other gave this all-star unit the most continuous 
ovation received by any unit thus far reviewed after service. 

Not only was there great enthusiasm as the parade passed, but a 
great percentage of the throngs on the avenue followed the procession 
to the North Meadow of Central Park, where the regiment received 
a medal of honor in recognition of its services on the Italian front. 

Italian Escort of Honor 

Before the regiment swung into line above Washington square 
more than thirty Italian civilian organizations joined in the formation 
of an escort of honor, which proceeded over the line of march fully an 
hour before the military force got under way. Some of the companies 
were delayed in the trip from Camp Merritt. It was after eleven 
o’clock when the strapping files of the crack unit reached Thirty- 
fourth street. 

The men wore service caps instead of helmets, carried rifles without 
bayonets and were in light marching order. Each man wore the 
Italian service stripe of red, green and white, and upon their left 
shoulders the handsomest insignia yet seen on a returning unit, the 
winged lion of St. Mark, embroidered in gold on a red background. 
As one of the thousands along the line of march expressed it, it seemed 
that every man in the regiment was “six feet tall and the officers 
eight feet,” and it could be readily appreciated that the arrival of 
this force on any battle front would warrant the enthusiasm which this 
particular unit aroused. Briefly, it is some regiment. 

On the reviewing stand at Eighty-second street and Fifth avenue 
were representatives of the municipal and State governments and a 
large group of United States army and navy officers, with officers of 
the Italian army. 


Officials in Reviewing Stand 

With Mayor Hylan were Rodman Wanamaker, chairman of the 
Mayor’s Committee of Welcome; Frank Dowling, Borough President; 
Thomas R. Killilea, Civil Service Commissioner; State Senator Salva¬ 
tore A. Cottillo, Deputy State Controller William Boardman, Colonel 
William E. Wood, Romolo Tritoni, Italian Consul General in New 


York; Cayetano de Quesada, Cuban Vice Consul in New York, and 
Mayor Harry L. Davis, of Cleveland, who was accompanied by 
Captain H. P. Shupe, his military aid. 

Mayor Davis came to New York to lead back a contingent of 350 
Cleveland men included in the 332d, who are to have a great recep¬ 
tion in Cleveland. 

Although the even files and splendid appearance of the marching 
unit had won an ovation all along the route of march, the vast pre¬ 
ponderance of Italian representation near the reviewing stand made 
the reception there one long to be remembered by the marching 
warriors. Every file was cheered to the echo as it marched by in 
wide formation, following a remarkable tribute to Colonel William 
Wallace and his staff, who led the parade with General Guglielmotti 
and a representation of the Italian Military Mission. 


Army Officers Present 

Just before the regiment reached the reviewing stand a delegation 
of United States Army officers arrived which included General Thomas 
H. Barry, commanding the Department of the East; Captain Edward 
Quigley, his aid; Brigadier General George H. McManus, in command 
of the Port of Embarkation, and Captain H. B. Black, his aid. 

Aside from the big band of the 332d there were bands placed by 
the Mayor’s Committee at points all along the line of march, the police 
band being stationed at the reviewing stand. 

When the bronzed files had reached 102d street they swung into 
the park and over the curving park roads to the North Meadow. 
There were drawn up more than 10,000 members of the Italian 
organizations of New York, their banners draped in crepe for the 
hundreds of Italian dead in the American military establishment’s 
records. 

The regiment was marched out in orderly files before a great oak, 
under which the speeches of the day were made. They stood at ease 
then and heard the combined plaudits of Italian and American ex¬ 
ecutives, terminating with the presentation of a magnificent medal 
of gold. 


“For Liberty and Democracy” 

The face of the wide medallion shows Italy placing a laurel wreath 
upon a helmeted Columbia and on the reverse side of the medal are 
the words:— 

“The Italians of New York to the glorious 332d Infantry in com¬ 
memoration of the battles fought in Italy in 1918 for the noble ideals 
of Liberty and Democracy.” 


-N 

WELL, I'M 
l?ACK -ACAirs 1 

__ 

( 


















Before the presentation of the medal Mayor Hylan made a brief 
speech of welcome after being introduced by Mr. Wanamaker. The 
presentation speech was made by Consul General Romolo Tritoni 
in behalf of the Italian citizens of New York. Mr. Tritoni reviewed 
the service of the regiment in the Italian advance and said: 

“On this medal there stand forth significantly two human figures, 
one representing Italy, the other the United States—Italy offering 
America palms of glory, America moving toward Italy with generous 
and noble love. 


“We Italians mean this symbolism to be a hope for the future. 
Yes, more than a hope-—it is a living faith. For the people of Italy 
love the United States and hope and believe that a brotherhood ever 
closer, will be established between the two nations. 

“And so with reverence I salute your glorious flag. You, too, 
Colonel Wallace, and your gallant regiment, I salute. And through 
you I salute the great leaders of the American army. All hail to the 
United States! All hail to Italy!” 



61 


















Italy V Skies Are Sunny 



v y' 













CHEERING THOUSANDS 
JOIN IN WELCOMING 
HOME OF PIAVE VETS 


American, Italian Flags Mingle Along Line of 
March; Airman Drops Flowers; Crowd 
Silent as Memorial to Dead Is Unveiled. 


From The Cleveland Leader, April 27, 1919 

The men of the 332d regiment—3,500 of them—with the cheers 
of their welcome home still ringing in their ears, left late yesterday 
for Camp Sherman following the biggest strictly military parade 
Cleveland has had since the country’s entry into the world war. 

The scene as the parade marched through Public Square was the 
most impressive of any thus far marking the welcome home cele¬ 
brations. 

While bells rang joyously and bombs exploded high in air, vying 
with the brazen strains of martial airs, an airplane soared and circled 
and dipped overhead, dropping thousands of flowers upon the heads 
of the marching men. 

Crowds, augmented by 15,000 persons from other cities, lined 
street curbs and filled Public Square, their cheers rising spontaneously 
as the Yanks filed past. Italian flags mingled with the red, white 
and blue of the Stars and Stripes. 

On the left arm of each man, swinging in perfect unison, was the 
Lion of St. Mark, spun in gold on a field of red, the regiment’s own 
insignia to distinguish it from other units of the Eighty-third division. 


Unveil Memorial 

The bell in Old Stone church, ringing in joyous welcome, stopped 
momentarily as the troops reached Public Square, and then tolled in 


mourning for the dead. The marching columns halted, grouped 
around a spot where a memorial tablet, containing the names of 705 
Cleveland soldiers who gave their lives overseas, was unveiled. 

The parade started at 10:30 from W. 3d street and Superior avenue. 
The Cleveland members of the 332d, 350 in number, had spent Friday 
night at their homes, but were on hand with their comrades in time 
to march. 


Police, Mayor, Head Line 

A detachment of police and the police band led the procession. 
Mayor Davis and H. P. Shupe, of the mayor’s advisory board, were 
at the head of the long line, which, besides the 332d Regiment, in¬ 
cluded representatives of the G. A. R., Spanish-American War Vet¬ 
erans, World War Veterans, Army and Navy Union and Veterans of 
Foreign Wars. There was also a delegation of the Sons of Italy, 
headed by Dr. Nicola Cerri, Italian consul in Cleveland, and Dr. 
G. A. Barricelli, state president of the order. Leading the Italian 
contingent were two standard-bearers, one carrying an American 
flag and the other an Italian flag. 

The original order that no Italian flags were to appear in the parade 
was revoked, and in addition to the large flags at the head of the 
Italian delegation each of the marchers in the guard of honor carried 
a small American flag in one hand and an Italian in the other. 


Col. Wallace Leads Men 

The parade, after crossing Public Square, headed out Euclid ave¬ 
nue to E. 22d street, turning up to Prospect avenue and returning down 
to E. 9th street, swinging into Superior avenue, down E. 6th street, 
and to Central armory. 

Col. William Wallace, commander of the 332d Infantry, led his 
men, who marched without overcoats in spite of the snappy weather. 
There were close to 3,500 men of the regiment in line. 

In the reviewing stand in E. 6th street was Maj. Gen. Edwin S. 
Glenn, commandant of Camp Sherman, who came up from Chillicothe 
especially to welcome home the 332d, which had been a part of the 
83d division, his former command. 

At Central armory, following the parade, a silver loving cup was 
presented by the Sons of Italy to Col. Wallace, who expressed the 
thanks of the men. The soldiers themselves forgot the repast before 
them, served by mothers, wives and sisters, long enough to cheer 
the Italian-born citizens as the presentation was made. 




FINALE. 

T HE ORDER, “Everybody out,” had been, as a rule, a most 
unwelcome one in the experience of Co. “D,” for it had usually 
been preliminary to the monotony of drill or the rigors of a long 
march or hike. 

But “Everybody out” in the early morning of Sunday, the 27th 
of April, had a different significance—the end of the last journey in 
the army; it meant the company was again at Sherman, the starting 
point of its adventures and misadventures. And Camp Sherman 
spelled demobilization—and Home! 

The special trains travelling from Camp Merritt had left Cleveland 
on the evening of Saturday, the 26th of April, and reached Chillicothe 
in the early morning of the 27th. The mantle of night still lay over 
the valley and to the east the dark lines of Mt. Logan loomed up, 
behind whose shadows the dawn was soon to break. What sublime 
recollections of the past surged upon the memory! Nearly a year 
since these men had beheld the star of morning, sparkling, like a jewel 
in old Logan’s crown, as they emerged from their canvas shelters to 
begin another day on the range. 

And now they were back again ! 

It was an unforgettable moment! The wanderings of the past 
seemed unreal! What man was there who could visualize them as 
his own experience! 

And with this sense of unreality, who will deny that he felt a twinge 
of regret as he realized that his wanderings were over? In that 
moment what man did not see the purpling Alps as the early sun rose 
behind them? Who did not feel again the soft caress of the night 
wind at Valeggio when the moon rode high in the starry heavens? 
And the hastening Mincio! how it sparkled in the sunlight and laugh¬ 
ingly displayed its crystal depths! Was there a man who did not 
hear again the last notes of Wharton’s “taps” dying softly away 
among the storied precincts of old Sommacompagna? Venice, the 
Queen of the Adriatic! Who could deny a sense of oppressive sad¬ 
ness at the thought of never seeing her again. And Genoa, the 
Superb! Was she always to be but a memory? 

But these thronging recollections were soon forced into the back¬ 
ground, for the train now crept into Camp Sherman. All eyes 
strained into the darkness to catch the familiar outlines of barracks 
and sheds. Pullman berths were made up, equipment assembled, 
packs made ready to sling, and every man was “on his toes.” 

Darkness hovered over the valley as the men in high spirits 
left the train. A hasty physical examination was given every man, 
and in the slow coming dawn each company began its march toward 
the barracks, the last march these comrades would ever make under 
the full equipment they had learned to know as theirs. 


The camp’s early morning appearance contrasted strangely with 
that of former days. A vacant, deserted air seemed to have settled 
over the area. No straining bugles were sounding first call, assembly, 
and reveille; no sharp commands broke upon the air. “Fall in! 
“Count off!” nowhere reached the ear. No army trucks with ex¬ 
hausts wide open rushed up and down the long avenues; an un¬ 
natural silence hung over the once bustling camp. 

The stockade, filled with German prisoners, remained a grim 
testimony to the war; elsewhere there was little to recall the recent 
conflict. These differences from former days did not pass unnoticed 
on the part of the 332nd men as they entered the barracks assigned 
them. 

During the next few days preparations for demobilization went 
rapidly forward. All equipment was handed in except what the men 
were to be permitted to take home with them. Discharge papers 
were made out; final lectures given—that on re-enlistment, in the 
Liberty Theater; the one on sex hygiene and industrial employment, 
in the “Big Y”. Finally, on the morning of May 2, straw ticks were 
emptied. The end was near. With scarcely suppressed excitement, 
the men became eager to receive that “little piece of paper.” It 
was then for the first time that many realized how strong was the 
friendship that had sprung up among them; they felt, too, the tre¬ 
mendous pull at the heartstrings when they came to say “Farewell." 

These feelings were strangely different from those they experienced 
during the final days overseas when the exasperation, caused by a 
delayed start for home, had all but ruined their dispositions, indi¬ 
vidually and collectively, and made the then mild exactions doubly 
odious. And as they sailed for home, doubt settled over them. 

They wondered whether America had remained steadfast to her 
ideals of democracy through all the chaos of the Great Conflict; 
or whether the war, with its upsetting of social conditions, its inflam¬ 
ing of prejudices and hates, had so affected the soul of the American 
people as to change the whole nature and principle of their govern¬ 
ment and institutions. They wondered whether militarism or the 
people ruled. 

These doubts and apprehensions were destined to be of short 
duration, for scarcely had the ships that bore them homeward reached 
the inner harbor at New York than their fears began to vanish. 

Then came the enthusiastic receptions and stirring ovations in the 
regiment’s honor at both New York City and Cleveland. Those 
popular public expressions swept all lingering doubts from their minds 
and encouraged each one to place his faith unreservedly in the great 
people for whom he had gone abroad and to whom he now returned. 

Now, on the morning of May 2, their work done and happy to 
return to their homes, the men, with their officers, formed ranks in 


front of their barracks preparatory to being discharged. There was 
no hilarity, no commotion; a quiet seriousness came over the face of 
each man, a seriousness possessed by only the strong tried in the fire 
of a great crisis. To them had come new resolves, new purposes, new 
ambitions. And to them America would always be “first, last, and 
all the time.” 

Quietly they responded to the command, “Fall in.” It was their 
last formation. 

At the office of the “Q. M.” each man received his bonus and pay, 
together with his discharge; emerging from the office, he was left to 


his own devices. In scattered groups these new veterans of the 
world war made their way to Chillicothe and thence to their homes 
by train or trolley. 

That night, May 2, 1919, the members of Headquarters, A, B, 
C and D companies of the 332nd, recounted to their friends the experi¬ 
ences they had in four different European countries. On Saturday, 
May 3, the troops of the second battalion, and on Monday, May 5, 
those of the third battalion, were returned to civilian life. 

To this brief record of the movements of the 332nd Infantry, 
U. S. A., we now write, 



Sept. 7, 1917—First contingent arrived at Camp Sherman. 

Sept. 24, 1917—Second contingent arrived from Akron. 

Nov. 11, 1917—Third contingent arrived from Akrcn. 

Nov. 16, 1917—Camp Football team played at Akrcn. 

Nov. 18, 1917—Entrained for Camp Perry. 

Dec. 1, 1917—W. and J. defeated All-Star Sherman team. 

Dec. 11, 1917—Camp broken at Perry. 

Apr. 3, 1918—Gen. Glenn returned from France. 

Apr. 20, 1918—Final 15% of first draft joins Co. 

May 20, 1918—Camp quarantined preparatory to departure. 

June 6, 1918—Camp Merritt to Hoboken, 11 :00 a. m. 

June 8, 1918—Aquitania left New York, 8:15 a. m. 

June 15, 1918—Arrived at Liverpool docks, 2:00 p. m. 

June 16, 1918—Arrived Southampton, 2:00 a. m. 

June 16, 1918—Left Southampton, 6:00 p. m. 

June 17, 1918—Arrived Le Havre, France, 6:00 a. m. 

June 18, 1918—Left Le Havre. 

June 19, 1918—Passed through Noisy le Sue (Paris). 

June 20, 1918—Arrived Foulain, 2:30 a. m. 

June 20, 1918—Arrived Mandres, 9:00 a. m. 

June 23, 1918—Reviewed by Gen. Pershing and President Poincaire. 
June 26, 1918—Reviewed by Chief of Staff of Belgian Army. 

July 3-4, 1918—Transfers to the 331st Regiment. 

July 26, 1918—Left Mandres en route to Italy. 

July 28, 1918—Arrival and reception at Milan. 

July 29, 1918—Arrived at Sommacompagna. 

Aug. 1, 1918—Reviewed by King Victor Emmanuel III. 

Aug. 13, 1918—Camp moved to Valeggio. 

Sept. 2, 1918—Second Battalion moved to front. 

Sept. 12, 1918—Stokes Mortar explosion at Borghetto. 

Oct. 3, 1918—First and Third Battalions go to front. 

Oct. 4, 1918—Arrived at Treviso, 2:30 a. m. 

Oct. 7, 1918—Practice crossing of Sile. 

Oct. 7, 1918—Stand of colors presented Regiment. 

Oct. 12, 1918—Samuel Gompers visited Regiment. 

Oct. 21, 1918—Heavy air raid by enemy. 

Oct. 28, 1918—Moved to Piave line. 

Oct. 31, 1918—Crossed river to Vazzola. 

Nov. 1, 1918—Night. Camped at Gajarne. 


66 


Nov. 

Nov. 

Nov. 

Nov. 

Nov. 

Nov. 

Nov. 

Nov. 

Nov. 

Nov. 

Nov. 

Nov. 

Nov. 

Nov. 

Nov. 

Nov. 

Nov. 

Feb. 

Feb. 

Mar. 

Mar. 

Mar. 

Apr. 

Apr. 

Apr. 

Apr. 

Apr. 

Apr. 

Apr. 

Apr. 

Apr. 

Apr. 

Apr. 

May- 

May 

May 


3, 

3, 

4, 
6 , 

7, 

8 , 
10 , 
12 , 
12 , 
13, 
18, 

24, 

25, 

26, 

27, 

28, 
12 , 
13, 

9, 

28, 

29, 

1 , 

4, 
7, 

13, 

14, 
21 , 

24, 

25, 

26, 
26, 
27, 

2 , 

3, 

5, 


1918—At Cimpello. 

1918—Night. First, Second and Fourth Platoons at Tag 
liamento. 

1918—Night. Third Platoon at San Lorenzo. 

1918—Three platoons on Villaorva armistice line. 

1918—Moved from San Lorenzo to Pozzuolo. 

1918—From Pozzuola to Lovaria. 

1918—From Lovaria to Ipplis. 

1918—Bathed in Natisane River. 

1918—Second Battalion started for Cattaro, Dalmatia. 
1918—Marched from Ipplis to Corniers. 

1918—Moved into barracks southeast of Cormons. 

1918—Third Battalion left for Trieste. 

1918—First Battalion, Cormons to San Giorgio. 

1918—From San Giorgio to Fossalta. 

1918—At Fossalta. 

1918—Fossalta to Oderzo. 

1918— Thanksgiving. Marched from Oderzo to Treviso. 

1919— Moved from Treviso. 

1919—Arrived at Genoa. 

1919—Second Battalion arrived at Genoa from Cattaro. 
1919—Canopic sailed from Genoa. 

1919—Duca d’Aosta sailed from Genoa. 

1919—Arrived Gibraltar. 

1919—Left Gibraltar at 8:00 a. m. 

1919—Passed Azores. 

1919—Arrived Fire Island. 

1919—Went from shipboard to Camp Merritt, N. J. 
1919—Paraded Fifth Ave., New York City. 

1919—Left Camp Merritt for Cleveland. 

1919—Arrived Cleveland. 

1919—Paraded Cleveland. 

1919—Left Cleveland for Camp Sherman. 

1919—Arrived Camp Sherman. 

1919—First Battalion demobilized. 

1919—Second Battalion demobilized. 

1919—Third Battalion demobilized and Regimental de 
mobilization completed. 































1st Platoon 









bLSJL. 



i 

' ^ 


2nd Platoon 








3rd Platoon 











4th Platoon 










U?{B^<PQgKI<P V 


© 




To THE B^YS 9F C°J d 

WH5 QA/E THEIR EVES 

E?R freedom’s musE 


X/f//T ys S7VJZE WECJQU& f'EACE — VKe SJ/ALL FjqjJT- 

~f*o/g r^£ 7Vy/y<7«5 rre a/eye An.Yvxyo cejs/?/ee /YE/?/eesrou&= 
”J/e/)KT<S *> 7 &’SUCJ/ /) T//SA' YY£ nan/cs> 7 -£ ■ Oi/.G EJVES *=* 

^ £Cfoc?c/s-oc<; £4/’//'SO/7- 


<P- 


\ 
















































I 

I T was the afternoon of Friday, Sept. 7, 1917. A truck train filled 
with embryo soldiers ploughed its way across a muddy cornfield 
at Camp Sherman and came to a stop before a low black building, 
the future Regimental Headquarters of the soon-to-be famous Three 
Hundred Thirty Second Infantry of the United States Army. No 
flying flags or sounding bugles marked the laying of the cornerstone—- 
only silence broken somewhat by noise from busy tractors and hurry¬ 
ing carpenters as they erected a city of barracks and huts on a sea of 
mud. 

A mixed lot of Americans unloaded at Regimental Headquarters 
that day. Their ignorance in army customs was a product of their 
education; their lack of military bearing and their unsophisticated 
carelessness as to things martial, marked them the sons of a social 
order, that, judging from the material at hand, might well be styled 
as one of the greatest Americans has styled it—“a polyglot boarding 
house.” 

They were rough material from which to build an army of efficient 
soldiers. Great indeed must have been the faith of Uncle Sam and 
the War Staff! So ignorant of military courtesy was one rookie that 
he approached the Colonel and unceremoniously blurted out, “Say, 
Buddy, where can a fellow buy a can of tobacco?” Full direction to 
the nearest canteen, and a quiet friendly smile—the truly American 
way—was the Colonel’s only answer. This blundering rookie was soon 
to be a sergeant of “Co. D,” possessing all the essential qualities of a 
good soldier. 

A short friendly talk by Col. Mearns was their welcome into the 
army; and then the men were-divided, fifteen going to each company 
of the regiment. 

The fifteen men chosen for “D” Company were, Legrand Baker, 
Charles Blancett, Clarence College, Carl C. Daily, James C. Farns¬ 
worth, George A. Halter, Edward C. Huffer, Charles H. Stanley, 
Frank W. Taylor, Fred B. Vawter, DeWitt Shoemaker, Carl A. Haus- 
man, Arthur C. Nelson (deceased), and Chas. C. Yager. Ten of these 
men, the ten first named were members of Co. “D” on the day of 
demobilization, all of them non-commissioned officers. Chas. C. 
Yager was transferred from Co. “D” to be Regimental Color Sergeant. 
Such was the original strength and enlisted personnel of Co. “D.” 

The officer personnel of this diminutive company wasmade up of 
graduated candidates of the first O. T. S. at Fort Benjamin Harrison, 
Ind. The officers were Capt. H. B. Emerson, 1st Lt., K. E. Whinnery, 
2nd Lt., P. P. Edwards, 2nd Lt., B. W. Beal and 2nd Lt. C. E. Mayne. 



Capt. Emerson, who had received his military training at Platts- 
burg and Fort Benjamin Harrison, was eminently qualified to lead 
and direct these civilians so as to make them efficient soldiers. He 
was a gentleman, as courteous to others as he expected others to be 
to him; tolerant, in overlooking petty offenses against military 
regulations on the part of untrained men. His deep, personal in¬ 
terest in his men as individuals, coupled with his rare ability to make 
them proud to do their best, made him a leader of unquestioned 
rank. His leadership fostered in the men the greatest possible amount 
of company pride and spirit, together with loyalty to the officers. 
He carried out the administration of company affairs with quick 
military precision. 

Lt. Whinnery, second in command, ably assisted Capt. Emerson. 
Lt. Whinnery’s personality, his ceaseless and tireless effort, did all 
of one man’s share to build up an effective fighting machine. His 
program of educating the men on the causes of the war and the 
conditions in Europe led them to think on the plane of nationalism, 
rather than on the lower one of selfish individuality. He made 
Americans as well as soldiers, and, as a result, many fatiguing tasks 
were no longer irksome, but rather a pleasure. As Regimental 
Athletic Officer he promoted a spirit of clean sportsmanship at the 
same time building up the morale as well as the physique of the men. 

Lt. Edwards was an energetic athletic officer. His platoon was 
always a contender for first honors in drills or games, and as football 
coach he produced a company football team which lost only one game 
in the entire season. A few days before the end of 1917, he was 
awakened and hurried to Regimental Headquarters to accept promo¬ 
tion from Second to First Lieutenant. Everyone was as proud and 
glad of it as he may well have been to receive the honor. 

Lt. Beal was a capable officer whose duty it was to see that the 
mess was the best attainable. He succeeded. Lt. Beal left the 
company to attend the “School of the Line.” 

Lt. Mayne produced a snappy bunch out of the midget platoon. 
He was field coach of the Co. “D’s” football team. All the company 
was sorry to see him leave for the “School of the Line.” 

On September 9, the company received by assignment two Regular 
Army men, Cbrp. Clarence E. Bell from Co. “E,” stationed at Fort 
Benjamin Harrison, and Pvt. Anton Frandsen from Co. “L,” 36th 
Infantry Fort Snelling, who had been assigned since September 4, 
to the 83rd Division and had been awaiting the arrival of the first 
20% of selective service men. 


6 






I 




















































Under the capable direction of these five officers and two real 
soldiers the initial training went ahead intensively, much of the 
drilling being left to the regular army men, Corp. Bell and Pvt 
Frandsen, the former now acting as top sergeant of Co. “D.” 

The daily routine at the start was Reveille at 6:00 a. m., followed 
by drill at 7 :30 a. m. The day usually started off with a good stiff 
hike, lasting for an hour, followed by drill for the remaining forenoon 
in periods of fifty minutes, with ten minutes rest each hour. 

These drills presented a novel appearance for at the end of the 
first two weeks, the men had not yet received their uniforms, con¬ 
sequently they drilled in civilian clothes minus the coats. The hours 
of drill were long and fatiguing; nevertheless, the men were so eager 
to learn and so unsatisfied with what they learned during drill hours 
that they assembled in a “Court of Query” at night and plied Sgts. 
Bell and Frandsen with many questions about military manoeuvers. 
These sessions ofttimes lasted from evening mess till the wee small 
hours of the morning, so desirous were the men to “get on.” The 
accomplishments of their will to learn were soon very apparent as it 
seemed those who asked the most questions and sought the most 
information were the best equipped to drill their future units. 

By the end of the first week’s drill the appearance of the men had 
altered greatly. Their bodies were erect; their shoulders, more nearly 
square, while a better color came into their cheeks; they had already 
absorbed as much military training as men usually got in thirty days 
at a Receiving Barracks in peace times. 

The first Saturday Drill Inspection was held on the small parade 
grounds at the end of the first week. During this drill “D” Co. 
acquitted itself commendably and was coming off the field with fly¬ 
ing colors, when unexpectedly came the command, “Right by squads! 
March!” There were only two squads and they had had this move¬ 
ment only twice. Both squads plunged ahead to the consternation 
of everyone, each evidently thinking it was “right.” But a heinous 
offence had been committed; someone had brought humiliation upon 
the company, hence the guilty ones must be found and justly pun¬ 
ished. 

That night “The Kangaroo Court” assembled in solemn session 
to place the responsibility for this ignominious blunder. Sgt. Stanley 
was installed to act as judge; Sgt. Daily, prosecutor; the rest were 
witnesses. D. Shoemaker, who as Number One man, second squad, 
should have held the pivot, and G. Halter an accomplice, being 
Number Two man in the same squad, w r ho should have pushed Shoe¬ 
maker into position, were arrested and brought in for trial. Both were 
charged with “gross neglect of duty.” During the stormy court 
session that followed, humor and good fellowship prevailed, but at the 
conclusion of the trial the court handed down a verdict of “Guilty.” 

Upon the plea of the culprits for clemency on the grounds of 


“extenuating circumstances” the prisoners were released on proba¬ 
tion, upon their promise to learn the I. D. R. by heart, so as to mini¬ 
mize the danger of future mistakes. Such was the all-pervading good 
humor of this newly conceived American soldier! Such was the un¬ 
alloyed earnestness to succeed in his new occupation, such was the 
man who must raise the emblem of a peace loving democracy over the 
debris of a long suffering world; who must sing the songs of liberty; 
carry the flag of liberty before the vision of agonized multitudes. 
Such was the man who must meet the twentieth century Hun with his 
own weapons of blood and carnage. On such men depended the hope 
of the age. 

The first five per cent of America’s Selective Service men had been 
in camp one week! Their spirit was indomitable and made sure the 
“safety of democracy.” 

II 

On September 20, 1917, Cpl. Bell was made top sergeant; Pvt. 
Frandsen a corporal. The company consisting of seventeen men was 
moved into Barracks B-14 and proceeded to put the building into 
condition for occupancy. It was scrubbed from top to bottom; every¬ 
one “turned” in with good spirit. Along with the schedule of drill 
went the work to change cornfields into parade grounds; all men were 
familiarized with “Iv. P.” duty and the time worn fatigue detail. 
They dug ditches; made walks; policed streets, and transferred un¬ 
seemly piles of lumber. They gave Camp Sherman a better appear¬ 
ance and made it a more sanitary place for living. 

The first increase in company strength occurred Sept. 24, with the 
arrival of eighty-seven men from Akron. Work of training proceeded 
intensively and the men rounded into shape in an incredibly short 
time. On their first Friday in camp these new men assisted in putting 
on the Camp Guard. 

Lt. Beal was Officer of the Guard; Cpl. Baker, Sgt. of the Guard. 
The men studied and learned their General and Special Orders while 
walking post over the entire regimental area, armed with a club and 
a lantern. October 1, saw recommendations go to Headquarters 
making all of the first group and some previous service men in the 
second, sergeants and corporals. 

Seventy-three men came from Youngstown on October 7, and 
with this rapid numerical growth the training kept adequate pace. 
The aggressive spirit with which the new men sought to overcome 
their handicap warned all the older men that the least let-up in effort 
on their part meant the loss of that “non-com” job. With such 
spirit in the men, the work of making efficient soldiers was indeed 
very easy. 

All this time, at the hands of the officers, the spirit of the com¬ 
pany was being developed. Competition was stimulated to beat other 
companies in military and athletic events. This spirit of fair compe- 



Ohio’s Seal. Mt. Logan. 







Addison, William E. 
Adler, Louis B. 

Aigler, J. Alfred 
Alleman,John F. 

Allen, George W. 
Angelikeio, Mike 
Armstrong. Harry B. 
Authenreiih, Walter R. 

Baker, Legrand H. 
Baker, Lloyd 
Barman, Clarence J. 
Barner, George A. 
Bauer, Nicholas J. 
Beauregard, Leo T. 
Beechler, William 
Bell, Clarence E. 
Berger, Herbert S. 
Berry, Lester P. 

Beyer, Harold G. 
Belino, Tony 
Bitting, Harry' E. 
Blanchett, Charles 
Bobel, Bert J. 

Bohn, Frank R. 

Borgu, John 
Botchie, John F. 
Bottenhorn, Clifford 
Brown, Walter 
Busky, Frank 

Cady, Sherman J. 

Carris, Guy D. 

Capece, Fred 
Capron, Edward T. 
Carnes, William 
Chapin, George E. 

Chiesa, Victor 
Chojnowski, Ned F. 
Chlopek, John 
Cirino, Nick 
Close, Gerald 
College, Clarence 
Cook, Thomas J. 


R. F. D. No. 3, Box 10, Winfall, Indiana. 

1712 Highland Ave., Youngstown, Ohio. 

215 Kilbourne St., Bellevue, Ohio. 

R. F. D. No. 2, Rome, Ohio. 

R. F. D., South Zanesville, Ohio. 

1917 Woodlawn Ave., Cleveland, Ohio. 

118 W. Market St., Akron, Ohio. 

512 East Exchange, Akron, Ohio. 

517 Eibon Ave., Akron, Ohio. 

Harris Station, Ross County, Ohio. 

623 E. 4th St., Chillicothe, Ohio. 

R. F. D. No. 3, Millerstown, Penna. 

35 Elm St., Sharon, Pennsylvania. 

238 E. Bancroft St., Toledo, Ohio 
Lyndon, Ohio 

2632 Franklin Ave., St. Louis, Mo. 

221 Albany Ave., Cincinnati, Ohio. 

308 Garrison St. Fremont, Ohio, 

2748 Broadway, Lorain, Ohio. 

3818 E. 54th St., Cleveland, Ohio. 

Middleburg, Penna. 

519 E. Bucyrus St., Crestline, Ohio. 

1016 5th St., Lorain, Ohio. 

Ellersle, Maryland. 

6124 Glass Ave., Cleveland, Ohio. 

Steelton, Penna. 

2f2 Main St., Elmwood Place, Cincinnati, Ohio. 
Box 157, Senecaville, Ohio 
493 14th St., Lorain, Ohio. 

115 N. 6th St., Newark, Ohio. 

New London, Ohio. 

248 4th St., Ellwood City, Penna. 

3103 Parkwood Ave., Toledo, Ohio. 

P. O. Box 358, C. S. Toledo, Ohio. 

Point Place Rd. and Florence Ave., West Toledo, 
Ohio. 

813 Willing Ave., Cambridge, Ohio. 

6207 Fullerton Ave., Cleveland, Ohio. 

1093 E. 68th St., Cleveland, Ohio. 

Cleveland, Ohio. 

Millersburg, Ohio. 

Hopewell, Penna. 

2203 Mulberry St., Cleveland, Ohio. 


Covert, Leland P. 
Crane, John 
Cunningham, Lee J. 
Curran, Charles H. 

Daily', Carl C. 
Danculovitch, Joseph 
Davies, Paul H. 

Davis, Jefferson I. 
DeBord, Glen B. 
Deichert, William 
Detrick, Clarence A. 
Dewalt, Clark Z. 
Dodway, Arthur 
Dorsey' Joseph M. 
Donnel, Floyd E. 
Dowling, James J. 
Dudley, Gordon 
Dunn, William C. 

Ebert, John H. 
Eisenbraun, William 
Erb, Lawrence 
Ernest, John R. 

Farnsworth, James C. 
Fetterman, Clifford L 
Fisher, Oscar P. 
Fleming,Joseph P. 
Frandsen, Anton 
Fredrick, Everett M. 

Galka, John 
Gardner, William P. 
Getzinger, Wallace A. 
Gillespie, Peter 
Goldberg, Milton S. 
Golub, David 
Gottschalk, Fred W. 
Grunenwald, Frank J. 

Haecker, Adolph P. 
Halter, George A. 

Hammon, Frank S. 
Hancock, Lester R. 


2111 E. 22nd St., Cleveland, Ohio. 

248 S. Seffner St., Marion, Ohio. 

Greensprings, Ohio, R. F. D. 

619 W. 22nd St., Lorain, Ohio. 

104 Arch St., Akron, Ohio. 

1447 E. 51st St., Cleveland, Ohio. 

Struthers Ave., R. F. D. No. 2, Youngstown, Ohio. 
R. F. D. No. 16, Everett, Ohio. 

28 N. Watt St., Chillicothe, Ohio. 

337 Sandusky Ave., Fremont, Ohio. 

Miller City, Ohio. 

639 Cherry St., Gabon, Ohio. 

Fremont, Ohio. 

1247 W. 7th St., Cincinnati, Ohio. 

West Stone St., Gibsonburg, Ohio. 

R. F. D. No. 3, Eldred, Penna. 

R. F. D. No. 3, Dublin, Va. 

P. O. Box 464, Kenmore, Ohio. 

Oak St., Youngstown, Ohio. 

302 Poland Ave., Struthers, Ohio. 

R. F. D. No. 1, Clyde, Ohio. 

2361 E. 76th St., Cleveland, Ohio. 

663 Baker St., Grafton, W. Va. 

615 Madison St., Conneaut, Ohio. 

R. F. D. No. 7, Chillicothe, Ohio. 

146 W. Chalmers Ave., Youngstown, Ohio. 

R. F. D. No. 2, Box 25-A, Racine, Wis. 

R. F. D. No. 1, Vinton, Ohio. 

602 Mary Ave., Clev'eland, Ohio. 

P. O. Station A, Youngstown, Ohio. 

R. F. D. No. 3, Kenton, Ohio. 

1370 E. 93rd St., Cleveland, Ohio. 

409 Superior Ave., W., Cleveland, Ohio. 

3211 E. 117th St., Cle\'eland, Ohio. 

215 E\'ans St., Gibsonburg, Ohio. 

1123 Garrison St., Fremont, Ohio. 

12715 Locke Ave., Cleveland, Ohio. 

R. F. D. Box 28, Aultman, Ohio. 

R. F. D. No. 2, Jewell, Ohio. 

Galena, Ohio. 


73 











Haney, Michael J. 
Hart, Walter C. 
Hastwell, Frank W. 
Hawley, John 
Hayden, William E. 
Heinebrodt, Clifford 
Heaton, Earl L. 
Hemler, Edward G. 
Hendershot, Harry 
Hickner, Oscar A. F. 
Hickel, Robert R. 
Hill, Harley G. 

Hirst, Lee C. 

Hoertt, Oscar T. 
Hosack, Laddie A. 
Houlihan, John P. 
Huffer, Edward C. 
Hungerford, Harry B. 


53 E. Evergreen St., E. Youngstown, Ohio. 
Petersburg, Ohio. 

West Park, Ohio. 

401 S. McKean St., Kittanning, Penna. 

Elgin Ave., N. College Hill, Cincinnati, Ohio. 
Care of Lorain Dry Cleaning Co., Lorain, Oh 
2144 Beach Ave., Lorain, Ohio. 

517 Troy St., Dayton, Ohio. 

66 Buchtel Ave., Akron, Ohio. 

R. F. D. No. 5, Wapakoneta, Ohio. 

51 S. 5th St., Kenmore, Ohio. 

786 E. 130th St., Cleveland, Ohio. 

218 W. 18th St., Lorain, Ohio 
909 Valley St., Dayton, Ohio. 

Bay Village, Dover, Ohio. 

445 E. Prospect St., Girard, Ohio. 
Michigantown, Ind. 

369 N. Firestone Blvd., Akron, Ohio. 


Jacobucci, Fredrick 
Jackson, George C. 
Jackson, John H. 
Jamerson, Lancaster 
Jones, Josiah 
Jones, Thomas W. 
Joy, Wick 


10600 Arthur St., Cleveland, Ohio. 

4 Western Ave., Newark, Ohio. 

119 S. 10th St., Kenmore (Box 892), Ohio. 
R. F. D. No. 2, Box 63, Bell, Florida. 

140 Cleveland St., Youngstown, Ohio. 
Sylacauga, Alabama. 

R. F. D. No. 1, Graysville, Ohio. 


Karcieski, Antoni 
Kazimore, Walter, 
Keese, Edward 
King, Russell B. 
Kline, Jesse C. 
Knaak, William E. 
Ivohn, Robert B. 
Koppeniiafer, Floyd 
Kostohrys, Charles 
Kraft, Raymond 
Kramer, Harry 
Krider, Ward C. 
Krzic, Anton 


6300 Hosnier Ave., Cleveland, Ohio. 
3318 Trowbridge Ave., Cleveland, Ohio. 
11827 Midland Ave., West Park, Ohio. 
4396 Hamilton Ave., Cincinnati, Ohio. 
663 Yale St., Akron, Ohio. 

Cleveland, Ohio. 

R. F. D. No. 1, North Lawrence, Ohio. 
Fremont, Ohio. 

3022 Victor Ave., Cleveland, Ohio. 

918>2 Yankee Road, Middletown, Ohio. 
105 7th St., McKeesport, Penna. 
Adams Mill, Ohio. 

1032 E. 68th St., Cleveland, Ohio. 


Laird, Charles H. 
Lakios, Steve 
Langan, Joseph 
Lautz, Oscar 


1822 5th Ave., Beaver Falls, Penna. 
Yatte St., Youngstown, Ohio. 

612 S. Webster Ave., Scranton, Penna. 
1821 Elbow St., Pittsburg, Penna. 


Lewis, Thomas J. 
Ligon, Robert E. 
Linnert, Edward H. 
Long, Earl J. 
Longnecker, John A. 
Lucrezi, Marco 
Luzar, Jacob 


301 E. Liberty St., Girard, Ohio. 

Mayfield, Kentucky. 

2440 Noble Road, Cleveland Heights, Ohio. 
549 Mill St., Conneaut, Ohio. 

R. F. D. No. 5, Marysville, Ohio. 

219 26th St., Bellaire, Ohio. 

716 E. 96th St., Cleveland, Ohio. 


Mahaffey, Carl C. 
Mallon, William 
Mann, Denver 
Masters, John W. 

May, James L. 
McCarthy, James D. 
McIntyre, Owen 
Meagle, Harold H. 
Merriman, Frank S. 
Meyer, Herbert A. 
Mickalski, Stanley 
Mooney, John B. 
Montecalvo, Guiseppe 
Moore, Everett R. 
Moore, Paul B. 

Morris, Lihue 
Murphy, Christopher S. 
Murphy, William J. 
Murphy, Cleophus 
Murray, Ernest A. 
Muskowitz, Stanley 


202 5th Ave., Tarentum, Penna. 

Eagle’s Club, Lorain, Ohio. 

Graysville, Ohio. 

R. F. D. No. 4, Marietta, Ohio. 

Main St., Mineral Ridge, Ohio. 

51 N. Willow St., Montclair, N. J. 

949 Bell St., Akron, Ohio. 

830 Front St., Marietta, Ohio. 

407 Epworth St., Newcastle, Penna. 

321 Danwalter Ave., Reading, Ohio. 
1080 Junction Ave., Detroit, Mich. 

1017 7th St., Lorain, Ohio. 

203 Hall Ave., Warren, Ohio. 

536 Soroco Ave., Newark, Ohio. 

R. F. D. No. 2, Hanlin Station, Penna. 
R. F. D. No. 1, Belmore, Ohio. 

West Park, Ohio. 

6532 Lederer Ave., Cleveland, Ohio. 
Belington, West Virginia. 

R. F. D. No. 1, Orrville, Ohio. 

Elaine, Ohio. 


Noch, John J. 
Norpell, Max B. 
Nowak, Edward J. 


6712 Fullerton Ave., Cleveland, Ohio. 
66 Granville St., Newark, Ohio. 

2328 Putman St., Toledo, Ohio. 


O’Brien, Eugene R. 
O’Brien, Michael 
O’Doherty, James M. 
Olson, G. Essen 


222 W. 18th St., Lorain, Ohio. 

1268 Oneida St., Shamokin, Penna. 
No. 7 Fire Station, Lorain, Ohio. 
499 Cass Ave., Detroit, Mich. 


Palmer, Peter N. 
Parks, Robert C. 
Paterson, Alexander 
Pavelchak, Jack 
Pedrow, Joseph A. 
Pellagalli, Dominico 
Peters, Lewts D. 


336 S. Main St., Akron, Ohio. 

547 Youngstown Ave., Warren, Ohio. 
406 Kansas Ave., Lorain, Ohio. 

1176 Duane St., Akron, Ohio. 

No. 5 Boundary St., Pittsburg, Penna. 
1065 E. 77th St., Cleveland, Ohio. 

R. D. No. 3, Hubbard, Ohio. 




Petrick, Benny 
Plotkin, Abe 
Post, Russell E. 
Powers, Melvin J. 
Preston, Claude 
Pugh, Paul L. 
Purkey, Milton H. 


10625 Arthur Ave., Cleveland, Ohio. 

322 E. Bancroft St., Toledo, Ohio. 

21 W. Broad St., Cuyahoga Falls, Ohio. 
Gibsonburg, Ohio. 

172 S. Gift St., Columbus, Ohio. 
Arlington, Ohio. 

Box 251, Redford, Michigan. 


Ragsdale, Leavy N. 
Rainer, Joe B. 
Rattigan, Lee 
Renkert, Ralph W. 
Rezac, Edward F. 
Rizzo, Frank 
Rice, Ben L. 
Roache, Layola J. 
Roemer, Albert H. 
Russell, Harry 
Russell, Roy A. 


1013 High St., Union City, Tenn. 

R. F. D., Wainsboro, La. 

2811 Monroe Ave., Cleveland, Ohio. 
Bowling Green, Ohio. 

4501 Roseville Court, Cleveland, Ohio. 
414 Butler Ave., Akron, Ohio. 

3rd St., Beaver, Penna. 

3151 Cherry St., Toledo, Ohio. 

427 W. 21st St., Lorain, Ohio. 

R. F. D. No. 4, Dawson Springs, Ky. 
R. F. D. No. 3, Hamilton, Ind. 


Stoltz, Arthur C. 
Stone, Charley 
Stromski, William 
Sturm, George A. 
Sullivan, John P. 
Surface, Leo C. 
Svastovich, Frank 
Swint, Raymond 


12 Lucerne Ave., Dayton, Ohio. 

R. F. D. No. 1, Graysport, Ohio. 

444 Lake Court, Cleveland, Ohio. 

1216 Budd St., Cincinnati, Ohio. 

703 Cherry St., Niles, Ohio. 

R. F. D. No. 2, Eaton, Ohio. 

Box No. 1, Clifton Road, Euclid Village, Ohio. 
R. F. D. No. 2, Fremont, Ohio. 


Tait, Glenn E. 
Taylor, Frank W. 
Taylor, Robert L. 
Taylor, Noel B. 
Taylor, Charles D. 
Tickner, Max J. 
Thomas, John L. 
Thomas, Rowland E. 
Toothman, Roy C. 
Troxel, George A. 


Gen. Delivery, Akron, Ohio. 
Clarksburg, Ohio. 

207 S. Main St., Kenton, Ohio. 
Clarksburg, Ohio. 

Philo, Ohio. 

229 Railway Ex. Bldg., Chicago, Ill. 
126 Perry St., Sandusky, Ohio. 
Central Fire Dept., Delaware, Ohio. 
112 S. 2nd St., Newark, Ohio. 
Wemelsdorf, Penna., R. F. D. No. 1. 


Samples, Richard G. 
Sancer, Abe B. 
Sapsford, Clyde W. 
Schisano, Frank 
Schleiman, Herbert C. 
Schneider, Carl J. 
Schneider, Frank J. 
Schweda, George P. 
Scofield, John B. 
Seebach, John H. 
Shaffer, Clyde H. 
Shaffer, Clarence 
Shannon, Joseph D. 
Shapiro, Jacob 
Shapiro, Sam 
Sikorski, John 
Sinesio, Peter 
Sinicrapi, Antone 
Smith, Elmer L. 

Smith, Julius G. 
Snyder, Harry K. 
Snyder, Lester 
Snyder, Wilmer C. 
Stanley, Charles H. 
Stein, Carl 
Stewart, Guthrie L. 


Clendenin, W. Va. 

5611 Scovill Ave., Cleveland, Ohio. 

R. F. D. No. 16, Everett, Ohio. 

3660 E. 144th St., Cleveland, Ohio. 

1026 Moor St., Toledo, Ohio. 

4806 Memphis Ave., Cleveland, Ohio. 

1007 Harriet St., Cincinnati, Ohio. 

R. F. D. No. 3, Elyria, Ohio. 

Care of Cable Piano Co., Superior, Toledo, Ohio. 
R. R. No. 5, Stratford, Ontario, Canada. 

R. F. D. No. 6, Wauseon, Ohio. 

136 Eastern Heights Blvd., Elyria, Ohio. 

Care of Elba Nye, R. F. D. No. 5, Newark, Ohio. 
1079 S. Main St., Akron, Ohio. 

415 Wyona St., Brooklyn, N. Y. 

1900 Woodlawn Ave., Cleveland, Ohio. 

Box No. 575, Dawson, New Mexico. 

63 Third Ave., New York City. 

2144 Beach Ave., Lorain, Ohio. 

516 Monroe St., Toledo, Ohio. 

R. R. No. 34, Barberton, Ohio, Box 73. 

R. F. D. No. 4, Beallsville, Ohio. 

E. Maple St., Dallastown, Penna. 

Care of Dinkier Hotel, Macon, Ga. 

116 Greer St., Defiance, Ohio. 

407 Machan St., Toledo, Ohio. 


VanAuker, David K. 
Vari, Frank 
Vatilla, Andy 
Vawter, Fred B. 
Veth, Elmer C. 
Villwock, Harold P. 


Struthers, Ohio. 

Care of Ohio Fuel & Supply Co., Xenia, Ohio. 
345 Melvin St., Barberton, Ohio. 

504 E. Maple St., Jeffersonville, Ind. 

1517 Dudley St., Cincinnati, Ohio. 

13 Columbia St., Toledo, Ohio. 


Wagner, Anthony A. 
Wagner, Walter W. 
Warden, Arthur 
Warner, Edward 
Weaver, James T. 
Weaver, Ralph S. 
Weiler, Edward M. 

Weis, Paul E. 
Wenneman, Raymond 
Wharton, Clarence W. 
Wigley, Joseph L. 
Wilburn, Robert A. 
Williams, Walter F. 
Wilson, James 
Wnuck, Mike 
Wodich, Milly 

WOHLHETER, CLARENCE E. 

Wood, Thomas 


894 Huron St., Akron, Ohio. 

1916 N. 12th St., Toledo, Ohio. 

309 Gilman St., Marietta, Ohio. 

Care of Brick Co., Alliance, Ohio. 

748 Pine St., Williamsport, Penna. 

688 S. Detroit St., Xenia, Ohio. 

114 E. 20th St., Lorain, Ohio. 

226 S. Wayne St., Kenton, Ohio. 

12206 Beldon Ave., West Park, Ohio. 
Barnesville, Ohio. 

241 W. Ray St., New Philadelphia, Ohio. 
32 Kingwood St., Morgantown, W. Va. 
1815 Park Ave., Indianapolis, Ind. 

Care of Lloyd Wilson, Columbiana, Ohio. 
3658 East 104th St., Cleveland, Ohio. 

R. F. D. No. 8, Cambridge, Ohio. 

R. F. D. No. 1, Adamsville, Ohio. 

524 York St., Newport, Ky. 


75 





MOW HARK/•'N 
OONI't FORGtT 
TH6 MOTH BALLS 






























































J 










































































